Misunderstood
by Quill of Molliemon
Summary: Yeah, another one of those fics where Ani starts out on the Dark Side. But there is a twist, of course. Find out about the biggest secret of the Jedi Order... Now COMPLETE! Check out version 2!
1. P: A Broken Promise

**Author's Note: **Welcome one and all to my first foray into the land of _Star Wars_ fan fiction! This being my first attempt, it's probably going to suck, but…well… Never mind. About the story: this is an Alternate Universe, a sort of 'what if' story. So keep that in mind and enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Star Wars_, the mighty George Lucas does. I am poor so I beg of thee, no suing.

* * *

**Prologue**  
_A Broken Promise_

Four years. He wasn't coming. He'd said a few weeks, a month at the most. Weeks, a month, that wasn't anywhere close to four years. Master Qui-Gon Jinn, that Jedi, had not kept his promise. Anakin had given up waiting for him three years ago.

The first sun had barely cleared the horizon when Anakin trudged into Watto's shop. Watto himself wouldn't make it in until the second sun was up, nearly an hour from now. But if Anakin didn't get started immediately, the scummy blue Toydarian would accuse him of laziness and strike him a few times with his cane. Wanting to avoid such unnecessary pain, Anakin got right to work.

A new shipment of scrap had come in yesterday and a good chunk of it still needed to be sorted and catalogued. With practiced ease he picked through the grimy junk, determining each piece's quality and condition with barely a glance. Once a certain pile of parts was large enough, he'd scoop it up and shift it to another larger pile in the lot behind the shop, and then it was back to the sorting.

It was mindless work and that meant that while his hands were busy, his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. And at the moment, his thoughts were where they usually went these days; that blasted broken promise. That Jedi had given him hope, real hope that he might escape this miserable dust ball and make something of himself. But now he knew better. That Jedi had used him, just like everyone else (except his mom, of course) used him.

Suddenly he paused mid-motion. Something was going to happen. He wasn't sure how he knew. He just knew. And when he knew things like that, they happened. Curious, Anakin abandoned his sorting and slunk into the shop, seeking the cause of his odd feeling. He didn't have far or long to look.

Watto fluttered into the shop with an elderly human man following closely behind. The man was finely dressed in a style of clothing that clearly marked him as a wealthy off-worlder. While he was old with a weathered face and white hair and gray beard, his sure strong step spoke of energy and health. And, for some strange reason, Anakin had a feeling that this man was very powerful and very dangerous.

"Now please be reasonable." The strange man purred in a deep, velvety voice that made Anakin shiver.

"I am being reasonable. The boy is not for sale!" Watto snapped back.

Anakin stiffened warily. _That man wants to buy me?_

"Come now, I've already offered you double his worth." The stranger calmly pointed out.

"His mother I could be persuaded to part with, but not the boy!" Watto declared.

"She is of no use to me; it is the boy that I am interested in." The stranger declared.

"Well you can't have him." Watto grunted, heading for the counter. "_Boy, get back to work!"_ The Toydarian snapped in Huttese when he spied Anakin watching from the back doorway.

"There you are." The stranger smiled before Anakin could escape. "Do wait there, once I finish these negotiations we will leave immediately."

Anakin gaped at the man. Watto roared foul Huttese curses at the off-worlder and swiped at him with his cane.

"I said the boy is not for sale!" The Toydarian snarled. "Now get out of my shop unless you want to buy his mother or some parts!"

"I will have that boy. If you refuse to sell him to me, then I shall simply have to take him." The man replied softly, calmly, and with tangible threat in his tone.

Watto was stubborn, but a coward. He backed down. "Fine, I sell him to you, but at triple price or no deal!"

"Done," the man replied without a second's hesitation.

Anakin blinked, dazed, as Watto reluctantly slapped the off-worlder's palm to seal the deal. There was some exchange of currency and a small transmitter box that would allow the man to take Anakin wherever he wanted without setting off his slave implant. And then the man beckoned to him.

"Come boy," he commanded and strode out of the shop, forcing Anakin to run to catch up.

"Where are we going sir?" Anakin asked, still half-dazed by this sudden turn of events.

"To my home." The man replied.

"Can I say goodbye to my mom before we go, sir?" Anakin wondered.

"No, that Toydarian has made me late; there is no time to stop." The man informed him. Then he smiled a smile that was meant to look warm, but felt more sinister than friendly. "Perhaps we can visit her some other time when I am not quite so busy."

"Yes sir." Anakin swallowed and followed his new owner tamely without complaint.

He had no real choice but to do as he was told, he was a slave after all, just living, breathing property. If he disobeyed, he could be beaten, starved, or even killed. He had no choice but to abandon his mother and his friends. Though he did manage to find one bright spot in this otherwise unhappy situation. _At least I'll finally get off this dust ball…_


	2. 1: The Lost is Found

**Chapter 1**  
_The Lost is Found_

It was too light and too loud and it smelled really bad. The sensory barrage bordered on overload and it was all he could do to keep on his feet and not fall over or throw up. Doing either was not a good idea in this neighborhood.

Out here in the slums if he showed any weakness, any vulnerability, the gangs, independent muggers, and pick-pockets would descend on him and strip him bare. They were probably out there already, circling like carrion eaters, waiting. He couldn't see them, but they were there.

He wouldn't give them the chance to rob him though. He wouldn't let his weakness show. And if they somehow managed to see past his façade, he'd make them pay for _daring _to _try _and take his credits and valuables. Yes, he'd make them pay and enjoy every second of it.

A furry, grimy Bothan nearly knocked him off his feet as it brushed past him and it was all he could do to keep upright. At that moment, the ground decided to tilt crazily under his feet, making his task all the more difficult. And then his vision got kind of fuzzy, blurry around the edges. His stomach churned most unhappily. Things began to take on a gray tinge. He was dangerously close to vomiting, passing out, or both.

A hand grasped his elbow suddenly and steadied him. He blinked, startled, and whirled on the person that dared touch him. This was, of course, a mistake. The sudden movement made his head throb worse, his vision swim, and bile burn its way up his throat. He swallowed hard and willed the nausea away and blinked rapidly, trying to clear his blurred sight.

"You should not be out when you are so ill. Where is your home?" A man asked, concerned.

"Why d'you care?" He managed between swallows.

"I sensed your distress and felt compelled to help." The man shrugged, or at least it looked like he did. Things swam in and out of focus and it was impossible to keep things straight.

"Whatever," he gulped and tried to pull away.

The man did not let him go. "Please, where is your home? I will escort you there."

"Y' can't." He muttered thickly. He was starting to lose his battle with his stomach.

"Are you running away?" The man asked gently.

"'m gunna…b-be sick." He gasped, swaying.

The man paused for a long fraction of a second. "This way then," the man ordered sharply and managed to haul him to a nearby alley where he wouldn't make quite so much of a mess.

He barely made it off the street when his stomach finally succeeded in rebelling. He retched and heaved until nothing more would come up and then he retched and heaved some more. When he finally stopped, his knees shook so badly that he nearly collapsed and he broke out into a cold sweat. He couldn't decide if he felt better or worse now that his insides were empty.

"Feel better?" The man asked softly.

"N-no." He panted.

"Will you tell me where you live?" The man asked again.

"No." He replied, managing a firmer tone this time.

"Are you running away from home?" The man repeated.

"Maybe," he cautiously admitted, struggling to think past his aching head.

"Well then, I shall take you to child services and have them look after you." The man decided.

He went stiff and glared dangerously at the man. "I am not a child!" He rasped out slowly and deliberately.

"How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen!"

"Eighteen is the local, and galactic, age of responsibility; therefore you are still a child." The man calmly pointed out.

"Don't care, 'm not goin'." He snarled defiantly.

"Please calm down–"

"Don' you tell me t' calm down!" He cried, his voice ragged and bordering on hysterical.

"Please–"

"Lemme go!" He almost wailed and he began to struggle against the man's grip.

His efforts to break free were less than successful. In fact, it just made things worse. In the scuffle, if it could even be called that, he hit his left side against something. Blinding, fiery agony spiked through him and drove the air from his lungs. And then the pain tripped a little circuit-breaker in his brain, and his sight simply turned off. Everything was black and silent and painless…

* * *

Obi-Wan thanked his Jedi reflexes as he managed to catch the young man as he suddenly toppled forward in a faint. Despite his thin, small frame, he was surprisingly heavy. But Obi-Wan was able to keep his feet and keep the ill youth from crashing into the hard ground. With a sigh, he hefted the boy up and dragged him to the opposite wall of the alley and set him down gently to better examine him.

While his clothing was shabby, it wasn't nearly in bad enough shape to mark him as a resident of this area. His boots looked to be of good quality, hinting of at least a middle-class origin. And his shirt, pants, and hooded cape seemed to confirm that assumption, though they were very tattered and dirty, like he'd run through a few forests. Hidden from sight underneath his cape was a bag of some sort that probably held his most treasured possessions.

"Yes, you certainly appear to be running away. But from what?" Obi-Wan mused, not expecting an answer from the unconscious teen.

A hand to the boy's forehead confirmed that he was sick with a very high fever. If it got any higher, the boy would slip into delirium. He was also very pale and thin, suggesting that he hadn't eaten well lately. And then Obi-Wan sensed something odd. He lifted the boy's shirt and found a clumsy makeshift bandage tied around his middle, the left side of it was soaked through with blood. A quick peek under the bandage told Obi-Wan two things: it was badly infected, and there was a good chance that it had been self-inflicted.

"Well young man, you have just earned yourself a trip to the hospital." He sighed sadly.

Careful not to injure the boy further, he scooped him up as best he could and headed for the nearest medical clinic. As he made his way through the slums and towards a nicer section of the city, he wondered.

Why had the Force pulled his attention on this boy? What was so special about him that a Jedi Knight was needed to intervene? What was he running from? Had he really stabbed himself? Why would anyone do such a thing? Who was he? Where did he come from?

Obi-Wan continued to wonder about the boy until he came to the hospital entrance where he pulled himself fully into the present and banished all his questions from his mind. He brought the boy inside and handed him off to the healers. After doing his best to answer the healers' questions, he took his leave and returned to the Corellian Jedi Temple.


	3. 2: Mysterious Runaway

**Chapter 2**  
_Mysterious Runaway_

Just less than a week later, Obi-Wan found himself entering the hospital again. Not because he was injured, but because the hospital administrator had contacted him concerning the boy he'd brought in for treatment. The Jedi Knight paused at the desk and spoke with the secretary before being directed towards the administrator's office. A short lift ride later Obi-Wan found himself greeting an aging human man with thick glasses and a well-worn suit, the hospital administrator.

"Thank you for coming so quickly Knight Kenobi, I hope this isn't inconvenient for you." The man, a Mr. Lassen, apologized.

"It is no problem, what can I help you with?" Obi-Wan replied politely.

"It concerns the possible runaway you brought in last week," Mr. Lassen sighed unhappily. "The staff removed him from the Bacta tank last night and everything appeared to be fine. But this morning, the nurses found his bed empty."

"So he's run again." Obi-Wan mused to himself. "But, why contact me? Why not CorSec?" He asked. Jedi rarely got involved in such small cases, that was for local law enforcement to handle.

"We would have, but then we went through his personal effects a second time." Mr. Lassen paused to remove and clean his glasses, more to gather his thought than actually clean them. "The first time we searched his bag and clothes it was to find some kind of ID, and we found none. The second time it was to see if we could find any clue as to where he might've gone, or why he ran away. And we found this." Mr. Lassen pulled a crate out from beside his desk which contained the missing teen's clothes and bag. From that crate, he pulled out a metallic cylindrical object and laid it before the Jedi. "Now, is that what I think it is?"

Obi-Wan picked up the object and studied it very carefully. There was a red activator switch roughly in the middle of it, and one end was an emitter, the other end had a soft grip…it was definitely what it appeared to be: a lightsaber. But what in the galaxy would that boy be doing with one? His clothes were not in the style of the Jedi. He lacked any sign of the distinctive Padawan learner haircut, or even just the braid. There was no way he was old enough to be a Knight already, and if he was simply not taken as a Padawan and shipped off to be part of the Agri-Corp he would not have a lightsaber. Now he saw why he had been contacted.

"Yes, it is a lightsaber." Obi-Wan sighed, setting the weapon down on the desk. "Did you find any clues in his belongings?"

"Aside from that saber, no, we found nothing." Mr. Lassen shook his head regretfully.

"Well, I thank you for contacting me. I shall look into this." Obi-Wan promised and gathered up the small crate of the boy's belongings to take back with him to the Temple.

* * *

He cursed himself yet again for his impulsiveness. He'd been in such a damn hurry to get out of that hospital that he hadn't thought to search for his clothes and bag. Now he lacked his clothes, his tools, his credits, and his saber. He was screwed. With another soft Huttese curse he glared at the gray, washed-out-looking pajamas and thin slippers the Healers had left him in.

_Well, at least I feel better…_ He thought, semi-sarcastically.

* * *

After stashing the box of the boy's things in his assigned quarters, Obi-Wan took the lightsaber to the Corellian Temple's saber-master, Nejaa Halcyon. If this saber belonged to someone associated with this particular branch of the Jedi Temple, it was very likely that Master Halcyon would recognize it. When Obi-Wan located him, he had just let out a class of younglings.

"Hello there Knight Kenobi!" Master Halcyon greeted once he sensed Obi-Wan's presence.

"Hello Master Halcyon." Obi-Wan smiled.

"What can I do for you?" Nejaa asked curiously as he put the last of the small practice sabers away in a cabinet.

"I was hoping that you might be able to tell me who this belongs to." Obi-Wan replied, holding out the mysterious lightsaber.

"Hmm," Nejaa muttered, taking the saber to study it better. After a few minutes, he frowned and shook his head. "It's very well made, but I can't say that I've ever seen it before. What color is it?"

"I don't know." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Well let's take a look." Nejaa grinned and flicked the activator switch.

The blade sprang to life with the familiar snap-hiss…and Nejaa's grin vanished in an instant. Obi-Wan paled at the sight of it. It was a crimson blade. No Jedi ever, _ever_, had such a color. Only those who had fallen to the Dark Side and the Sith used such weapons. Master Halcyon quickly switched the saber off.

"Star's End," Nejaa hissed. "Where in the Sith Hell did you get this Obi-Wan?"

"From a hospital, they found it among a missing patient's personal effects." Obi-Wan breathed.

"A missing patient?" Nejaa repeated.

"Yes, he slipped out of the hospital last night and no one has seen him since." Obi-Wan sighed.

"So will you go find this missing patient?" Nejaa inquired softly, handing the red-bladed saber back.

"That's what I was planning on doing." Obi-Wan replied, reluctantly clipping the tainted weapon to his belt.

"I'll come with you." Nejaa decided.

Obi-Wan just nodded. He figured that he was going to need some extra help with this. So what if he was the first Jedi to kill a Sith in several hundred years. He had no desire to ever face one again. And a Fallen Jedi was no better. Even if the kid had just found it and claimed it as his own, he wasn't going to take any risks. Together, they slipped out of the Temple and began looking.

* * *

He shivered as the sun set and the warmth quickly bled out of the atmosphere. It didn't get as cold as quickly as it did when the suns went down on Tatooine, but it was close enough. He never liked being cold. He scowled down at the thin gray hospital pajamas yet again and slunk through the dark streets in search of a place to crash for the night.

He was so engrossed in looking for shelter that he failed to see or sense a pair of cloaked men fall in a few steps behind him. He was totally oblivious to his tails for nearly three blocks before the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and made him freeze. Feeding off his anger and fear, the Darkness in and around him thickened and whispered to him. Two beings of Light were behind him, and they were following him.

"Shouldn't you still be in the hospital, young one?" A vaguely familiar voice asked.

"Prob'ly," he grunted warily, his slightly hazy mind racing to try and place the voice.

"Then why did you leave?" The voice asked.

"Wasn' safe." He growled, turning very slowly to face the two people behind him.

"How was it not safe? In my experience, hospitals are very safe places to be." The man inquired.

"Nowhere's safe for me." He snapped, then paled when he made out who he was talking two. They were a pair of Jedi. _Oh kriffin' Hell!_

"Why is that?" One of the Jedi, the one with a beard, asked softly.

His mind raced as he put things together. The only reason the Jedi were here for him was that they'd seen his lightsaber. He was in serious trouble. "You know why!" He spat, shaking.

"I'm…not sure that I know what you mean." The bearded Jedi lied.

"Don't lie!" He raged. He was very sick of being lied to.

"Humor us then." The second Jedi finally spoke. His voice was a good deal colder than his companion's was.

"If…if they don't find me, you will, and…and either way I'll end up dead." He replied, struggling, and failing, to keep his voice steady.

"Who are 'they'?" The first, nicer, Jedi asked.

"The…the Count and h-his Master and their lackeys." He half-whimpered, cursing himself for how pathetic he was sounding.

"Who?" The nice Jedi asked worriedly.

"The Count, his Master, and–"

"_Who?_" The meaner Jedi demanded sharply.

"The…j-just gimme my stuff an'…and I'll go 'way an' I'll never bother you again, I swear!" He begged, panicking and hating himself for it.

"What?" The nicer Jedi muttered, puzzled by the reply.

"I swear, I'll…I'll jus' disappear an'…an' I won't bother nobody." He whimpered, staring at ground and trying not to cry. _What the Hell is wrong with me!_

Suddenly the nice Jedi was standing right in front of him and the Jedi's hands were on his shoulders. He slowly lifted his head to look the Jedi in the face. "We won't hurt you unless you force us to." The Jedi promised, and this time he wasn't lying.

He had no idea what was wrong with him. He could only guess that it was the stress of the past month and the lingering effects of his illness. But, for whatever reason, he suddenly found himself clinging to the Jedi, sobbing into his shoulder like a big baby. The Jedi stiffly patted his back and tried to comfort him through the Force. He flinched at the blinding touch of the Light. It burned, but at the same time, it made him feel, for the first time in a long time, safe.


	4. 3: Names

**Chapter 3**  
_Names_

Obi-Wan sipped his tea and silently studied his most unexpected guest. Sprawled on the couch across from him lay the mysterious boy from the hospital. He was wrapped up in a blanket and fast asleep, finally looking peaceful. _Now what I am supposed to do?_

"He can't stay here, you know." Nejaa reminded him softly, so as not to wake the boy. "You probably shouldn't even have brought him here in the first place."

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed. "But what would you have done with him?"

"I really can't say," Nejaa sighed. "So when will you call the Council?"

"In the morning." Obi-Wan replied. "It's too late now, everyone is likely asleep."

"You know they wouldn't mind being woken up for this." Nejaa pointed out.

"True," Obi-Wan conceded.

"Why don't we place that call now and get it over with." Nejaa suggested.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded after a moment and set his tea aside.

Master Halcyon nodded and the pair of them rose and headed out. Obi-Wan paused at his doorway to glance back at his most unusual guest. The boy remained completely dead to the world and so he left without worrying…too much.

_Don't try to sneak out of here, I doubt you'd make it unnoticed…_

_

* * *

_

Something was off. He wasn't sure what at first. But then it came to him. He was entirely too comfortable. In his childhood, his bed had been a simple shelf with some sheets and a pillow. More recently it was a cell-like room with a cold metal cot. And most recent of all was a wide variety of uncomfortable places from ship holds, to sewer pipes, to sharp rocky ground. Now he was very comfortable, probably the most comfortable he'd ever been while asleep. He opened his eyes.

He was in a very cozy room, laying on a couch, and wrapped up in a blanket. The lights were dim though not completely out. Next to the couch was a low table with a cup sitting at the far end. It was very quiet, and he sensed that no one was around.

For a moment, he couldn't fathom where on Corellia he was. And then he remembered…

He'd snuck out of the hospital, but he'd forgotten all of his things in his panic. And then a pair of Jedi had tracked him down. One had been cold and hostile, the other had been kind of nice. Surprisingly, the Jedi hadn't killed him on the spot for being a Darksider. And he'd lost it and cried like a child… And then the Jedi had brought him back to…the Jedi Temple, Corellia.

_Sithspit! I have to get out of here!_

He clumsily squirmed upright, hindered by the warm, soft blanket. He peeled himself free of it, swung around, set his feet on the cold, hard floor and… '_Don't try to sneak out of here, I doubt you'd make it unnoticed…_' A strange echo in his mind made him freeze. That sounded like the voice of the nicer Jedi with the beard. _Did he say that to me?_ He wondered.

With a shrug, he stopped worrying about it and cocooned himself in the soft blanket again. There really was no way he could slip out of a Jedi Temple so it was simply better not to try. So he uneasily resigned himself to wait and see. He didn't have long to wait.

The door behind the sofa whooshed open and two men came in. One of them was the nice Jedi, the other the not-so-nice Jedi. He cowered in the blanket, suddenly feeling his anxiety rocket out of the atmosphere. _Why did I go with them? Whatever made me think that doing that was a good idea?_

"Oh, you're awake." The nice Jedi remarked, clearly surprised. "Are you feeling better?"

"I-I suppose," he admitted guardedly, pulling the blanket tighter about himself.

"Good," the Jedi nodded, taking a seat in a cushioned chair next to the couch. The other Jedi took up the second chair and remained silent.

"So, where were you?" He asked, watching the two Jedi nervously.

"We had to place a call to Coruscant." The nice Jedi replied.

"Coruscant?" He asked stupidly.

"Yes, we had to inform the Council of our findings." The other Jedi frowned.

"The Council?" He paled and tensed. _I'm dead!_

"Please relax, nothing has been decided yet." The first Jedi assured him. "Now, I believe we all should introduce ourselves. I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"I am Jedi Master Nejaa Halcyon." The second Jedi added stiffly.

He remained silent, still reeling from the admission of the call to the Jedi Council, and he didn't trust the two Jedi either. Both Jedi waited for him to say something. When he continued to not speak, Master Halcyon looked increasingly unhappy.

"If you don't feel comfortable telling us your name, you can make one up for us to use." Knight Kenobi suggested hopefully.

He hesitated for a long moment, then gave in and used the name that the cruel Count and his Master had given him. "Vader."

Both Jedi looked rather unhappy with his answer. "Vader?" Master Halcyon frowned.

Vader just shrugged and tried to bury himself deeper in the folds of the blanket. _He said make up a name, so I did…sort of._

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" Knight Kenobi asked politely.

Vader mutely shook his head, ignoring his dry throat and empty stomach. He didn't trust the Jedi to bring him anything that wasn't tainted by drugs or poisons.

"Well then, it's quite late. Why don't you get some sleep?" Knight Kenobi suggested, getting up from his chair. "I'll see you tomorrow?" The Knight asked as Master Halcyon stood up to leave.

"Yes," the Master replied tersely with a stiff nod. In seconds the older man was gone, leaving Vader and the slightly younger Knight behind.

"Good night," Knight Kenobi bowed and moved to a different door, one that led to the Knight's sleeping quarters.

"What's so good about it?" Vader muttered to himself.

The Knight paused. "What is so bad about it?" The Jedi countered.

"'m stuck in here, surrounded by Jedi, with no way out." Vader sulked.

"Why would you want to leave? You're safe here." Knight Kenobi wondered.

"No 'm not." Vader grumbled.

"Yes you are." Kenobi insisted.

"'m not." Vader muttered stubbornly. "They'll find me n' matter where I go an' they'll get me. If some of your 'friends' don't get me first."

Knight Kenobi looked annoyed. "They won't find you here, so long as you don't touch on the Dark Side. And aside from myself, Master Halcyon, and the Jedi Council, no Jedi knows that you're here. Now go to sleep young one."

Vader scowled, but did as he was told…sort of. He flopped back down on the couch and closed his eyes and waited for the Knight to leave the room. Once he knew he was alone he opened his eyes again and began to think furiously.

_Knight Kenobi is weird. Why the Sith Hell is he so damn nice to me? And why the heck is his voice so familiar? Did I hear it somewhere before? Wait…wait, when I was sick…was he the guy that brought me to the hospital in the first place? This…this whole mess is **his fault! **…**Argh!**_

With this realization, Vader quietly fumed and raged until unconsciousness finally claimed him once more…


	5. 4: Facing the Council

**Chapter 4**  
_Facing the Council_

Obi-Wan swallowed yet another sigh as he watched his charge from the corner of his eye. The boy, Vader, was squirming and fidgeting so badly that the Jedi Knight was surprised that none of the other passengers on the ship were yelling at him to stop. But at least none of the other passengers were Force-sensitive, because the boy's physical fidgeting was nothing compared to what his emotions were doing to the Force around him. It took all of Obi-Wan's impressive self-control not to get up and move as far away from Vader as humanly possible, the negativity around him was that intense.

To ward off the smothering Darkness that continually rolled off Vader in waves, Obi-Wan did his best to focus on the positives. For one thing, the boy was now presentable. Before he'd been filthy from the streets and wherever else he'd been. The hospital had cleaned him up, but he'd still looked rather unkempt with his long hair still a mess. Now he was back in his clothes, which had been washed and mostly repaired and his hair was tied back. If not for the wildly paranoid glint in his eyes, he might almost look civilized.

Vader also was behaving surprisingly well. While he was extremely unhappy with the current situation, he went along with what he was told with very little argument. Though it was glaringly obvious that whatever fragile trust he'd put in Obi-Wan the night after his hospital escape was all but gone, and he put no trust whatsoever in any other Jedi. Obi-Wan found it to be miraculous that Vader hadn't bolted when he and Master Halcyon took him to this transport bound for Coruscant.

The boy stiffened suddenly and went pale as Obi-Wan sensed the transport slip out of hyperspace and approach Coruscant's atmosphere. In ten minutes or so their ship would touch down on a landing pad, they and the other passengers would disembark, and then it would be off to the Jedi Temple for their appointment with the Council. Vader clearly wasn't looking forward to this. In fact, as the ship trembled through the atmosphere, the boy looked almost ill.

"Relax," Obi-Wan chided, placing a hand on Vader's shoulder.

"Stuff it!" Vader hissed tensely.

"Excuse me?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"Yeah, excuse you." Vader grunted, fiddling with the edge of his cape.

"Being rude is no way to get one someone's good side." Obi-Wan pointed out, deeply annoyed by Vader's rudeness.

"Wasn' tryin' to get on your 'good side'." Vader spat.

Obi-Wan shook his head wearily as the ship touched down. "That is not a good attitude to have when facing the Council." He warned.

Vader paled. "I don't like sucking up to people." He muttered in weak defiance.

"You don't have to 'suck up' to them, simply be honest and do your best to be respectful to them. Lying to them or insulting them is foolish, not to mention extremely rude." Obi-Wan replied calmly. The boarding ramps lowered and the passengers all rose to exit the craft. "Now follow me and we can get this over with quickly." He murmured.

Obi-Wan carefully wove through the crowd on the landing pad and led the boy away towards a smaller planetary transport that would take them towards the Temple. While Vader remained anxious, he was clearly awed by the impressive sight of Coruscant, a city so vast it covered the entire planet. Obi-Wan, however, had seen it all before. Coruscant was his home-world, he'd grown up with this unique skyline.

They boarded a nearby airbus and the public transport rumbled upwards soon after. Vader's face was all but pasted to the window as they entered a stream of air traffic. His eyes, normally dark and wary, were now glittering with child-like fascination at the artificial landscape of the Republic's capital city/world. Obi-Wan almost smiled at the sight of the boy. Almost.

Part of what kept him from smiling was the memories. Memories of his own youth and of his old Master. He remembered walking in his tall Master's shadow as they walked the streets of the city. But not just the surface streets, they also ventured down to all the deeper levels and met all sorts of creatures from all kinds of levels of legality. He recalled their life together in the central Jedi Temple, the lessons, the exercises, and the minor adventures. And he thought on the beginnings and ends of their shared missions. Especially the last one…

With a conscious effort, Obi-Wan shoved his musings of his past aside and focused, as his old Master had always demanded, on the present. The airbus neared their stop and it would be bothersome and unfortunate if they were to miss it. Vader would probably be more than annoyed if that happened.

The airbus dipped out of the traffic stream towards a platform, the closest stop on this bus' route to the Temple, and it hovered in a stop. The doors swung open, allowing new passengers to board, while others departed. Obi-Wan almost had to drag Vader to his feet to get his attention in time before the bus decided to lift off again.

"Leggo!" Vader growled, jerking his arm free from Obi-Wan's grip once they stepped onto the street again.

Obi-Wan merely shrugged and started for the Temple. He could feel Vader fuming darkly behind him, the pall of Dark energy was disconcerting to say the least, and he debated on whether he should say anything about it. Thankfully, though, the surroundings seemed to distract the boy enough for him to calm down and the smothering Darkness around him dissipated.

A few blocks later, the Temple came into view. The massive structure loomed above everything around it. The main body of the building was a squat, cap-less pyramid, and the flat top of it alone was level with most of the nearby skyscraper's peaks. And from that flat top, rose five separate spires, each the size and height of most of the needle-like high-class apartment buildings. The only other single building on Coruscant that came close to the Temple in size was the stadium-like Senate building that crouched on a distant horizon.

"Damn," Vader breathed, clearly overwhelmed at the massive Temple. If Obi-Wan let him, he might stand there all day and just stare at it.

Obi-Wan couldn't let him, though. "Come along, you can spend as long as you like studying it after we have our audience with the Council."

"Shut up," Vader muttered, flushing in embarrassment at having been caught staring like an idiotic tourist.

"Manners, please." Obi-Wan sighed as he started up the steps towards the Temple gates.

"Yeah, yeah." Vader groaned as he trudged along behind the Jedi Knight.

Obi-Wan only shook his head and continued on past the guardian statues and pillars that described the greatest of the Jedi. From there, there were the main gates, ancient wooden doors covered in intricate carvings that were more ceremonial than practical. And after that was the main foyer, a vast room lined with columns, floored with beautiful marble, and filled with art. Its sole purpose was to awe and inspire. It was clearly working on Vader, he could barely keep walking and keep his mouth closed at the same time.

Forcing back an amused smile, Obi-Wan carefully guided the scruffy youth towards their destination. And for the first few levels and hallways, everything went well. A few Knights and Masters gave them a second look since Vader clearly wasn't a Jedi, but no one said anything. But when they boarded the lift that would take them to the top of the tallest spire and the Council Chamber, Vader nearly crumbled.

Now that he didn't have any elegant hallways, intricate floors, large windows, or ancient artwork to distract him, he appeared to remember what he was supposed to be doing here. And the thought of facing the Council, twelve of the wisest, most powerful Jedi in the entire Order, seemed to be driving him swiftly towards full panic. The fear that rolled off him was sharp and thick.

"Relax, there is nothing to be afraid of." Obi-Wan advised.

"Easy for you to say," Vader snapped bitterly, his face deathly pale.

"No, it's not." Obi-Wan gently corrected him.

"What?" Vader blinked, startled.

"There is not a Jedi I have yet met who wasn't anxious about meeting with the Council at some point in their career, certainly when they were young Padawans." Obi-Wan informed him.

Vader frowned and stared at the floor of the lift, making an attempt to gather himself. The boy wasn't having much luck, he still radiated fear like a panicking Jar Jar. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and extended a few mental feelers towards the anxious boy to try and find a way to help calm him. The reaction he received to his well-meaning attempt to help was not what he expected.

The instant that Vader sensed the slight intrusion in his mind thick, tight, prickly shields swung into place. In the next breath, Obi-Wan found himself shoved into the wall of the lift and Vader pressed himself roughly into the opposite side. The liftcar was thick with Darkside energy and they were only moments away from arriving on their floor.

"That was…quite unnecessary." Obi-Wan gasped, rubbing at the back of his head.

"You were trying to get into my head!" Vader snarled, wild-eyed and panting like a feral animal.

"I was trying to help you calm down." Obi-Wan frowned. "I suppose I should ask first next time."

"Yeah, you should." Vader hissed, returning to the struggle of regaining his composure.

A few heartbeats later, the lift doors hissed open to reveal the highest floor of the Jedi Temple. The ante-chamber took up roughly a third of the level. The walls were lined with benches and a few chairs, places were those who sought an audience or those who had been summoned could sit and wait their turn. Directly opposite of the lift were the double doors that led into the Council Chamber itself. And on either side of those doors stood two senior-level Padawans; the honor-guards.

The current Padawan guards, a Human female and a male Ithorian, gazed at Vader with wary curiosity. A non-Jedi petitioner to the Council was rare and the echoes of Darkness that drifted around Vader didn't help matters. Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh and gave the youth a nudge out of the liftcar and towards the heavy doors that led to the Council Chamber.

"State your name and business." The girl demanded.

"Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and a guest, here to see the Council. We are expected." Obi-Wan replied.

"Wait here," the Ithorian instructed in his odd double-voice.

Obi-Wan bowed to them and then began to gently tow Vader towards a nearby bench. Vader was clearly tense, his movements strained and jerky, but he put up no struggle. Obi-Wan was glad.

They were just about to settle down on a bench when the Human girl spoke again. "The Council will see you now."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan bowed again and steered Vader towards the slowly opening doors. The boy was as white as a sheet and trembling. "It will be alright," he whispered into the boy's ear as they approached the circle of Council members waiting in their chairs.

And it was.


	6. 5: Playing Jedi

**Chapter 5**  
_Playing Jedi_

Vader sat heavily on the bed he'd been assigned and stared blankly at the wall. His bag lay discarded at his feet and a new bundle rested on his lap. Outside of the tiny bare room were he sat, he could sense Knight Kenobi moving around, probably inspecting the modest apartment. Vader's mind was too confused to really care about it that much.

As Knight Kenobi had told him, nothing terrible had happened to him for setting foot in the Jedi Council Chamber. He hadn't been struck down on sight by most powerful of the Jedi. He hadn't immediately burst into flames for violating the stronghold of the Light either. He was alive and just as healthy as he had been when he entered.

But, as he'd known, they weren't at all happy to see him. However, their hostility was far more restrained than what he was used to. Gardulla and his minions hadn't been the least bit hesitant to hit him if they could find, or fabricate, a reason when the Hutt had owned him. Watto had been slightly more kind, but only because an injured slave could not do as much work as a healthy one. And then the Count…well, he wouldn't go into that, it was still too fresh.

The Council members weren't like any of the others. They didn't hit or kick or zap. They just stared…right through you. They read every movement, every twitch, every sound, every word. And they, unlike all but the Count, had the Force at their disposal. So they listened for outright lies, hunted down half-truths, and did their damnedest to put any and every kind of pressure on his mind, but he wouldn't let them in.

They interrogated him for hours and hours. They pressed for details when he was vague and threw him odd questions to keep him off balance. And just when Vader swore he was going to crack and attack one of them (most likely the ancient little green troll that always talked backwards) they sent him away to speak with Knight Kenobi alone.

And then there was nothing to do for a good hour was sit outside the Chamber and wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. The whole time he could feel those apprentices watching him through the Force and from the corner of their eyes. Vader wasn't entirely sure what had been worse, the pressure of the Council, or waiting on them after all the pressure.

Again, just when Vader swore he'd crack, Knight Kenobi had emerged and took him away. Vader naively thought that he was off the hook, free to go. But he wasn't. This was just a lunch break. And down in the Jedi mess hall there were even more stares. They all knew he wasn't a Jedi, a single glance told them that, so what was he doing down in _their _cafeteria eating _their _food?

After that, it was a quick bathroom break and back to wait in the ante-chamber. And wait, and wait, and wait. Apparently they were deciding his fate. Knowing this made the wait _so_ much more bearable.

The Council must've consulted the Force to see just when he'd snap, the exact second, so that when they sent for him or sent him away, they could make sure it was just before that breaking point. Or maybe they didn't, but it really, _really_, felt like it to him. But, when they called, he was a good boy and came to see what they were going to do to him. He personally thought it would be either a quick or a slow death by lightsaber. It wasn't.

They wanted to help him…sort of.

Their offer: they would keep him safe and give him the ultimate hiding place. If he accepted, he wouldn't have to run and hide in the shadows anymore, fearing that the Count, or some other Darkside lackey, would find him and drag him back into slavery. He would even get a bodyguard of sorts…

But, if he accepted, the catch was a nightmare. The hiding place offered was the Jedi Temple and the 'bodyguard' would be a Jedi that he approved of. The only way he could hide in the Temple was to 'be' a Jedi. That's right, he would have to impersonate a real Jedi, and that meant, basically, that he would now have to willingly enslave himself to the Jedi Order.

They would make him a 'Padawan' and his 'bodyguard' would pose as his 'Master'. He would have to follow all their traditions, pretend to have their beliefs, and use the Light Side of the Force. If he failed in his impersonation, there was the very real risk that 'his fellow Jedi' would turn on him, since only the Council and the Jedi chosen to be his 'Master' would know his true nature.

Also, in exchange for this generous offer of protection, he would have to help them out. They wanted him to betray the Count and his side, they wanted information on the Sith Lords. The Council allowed him all the time he needed to tell them all he knew and promised that once he'd told them everything they would still keep him protected, but he didn't really believe them.

And so what had he done? What had he chosen? To leave and continue running? Or to stay and become a 'Padawan', a slave, for his own personal safety? He, Vader, being the frightened baby that he was, had chosen to become a 'Padawan'.

And for his 'Master'? His chosen guard who would keep him safe and instruct him on the ways of the Jedi so that he could hide properly among them? Each Council member had their own personal suggestion on who to pick. But in the end, he'd turned them all down and gone with the only Jedi he knew anything of, Knight Kenobi. And Knight Kenobi had, thankfully, agreed to it.

So, from there, it was off to become a Padawan. And the first stop, a haircut. His long blonde hair, normally kept up in a ponytail, was almost entirely shorn off. He got a partial buzz cut, the shortest his hair had ever been since he'd been a newborn infant. And, oddly, they'd left a little ponytail, only slightly longer than the rest, at the back of his head, and a lock of hair had been uncut just behind his right ear. That lonely lock had been braided. Essentially, with this haircut, they hadn't made him a Padawan, they'd made him a pansy.

After the nightmarish haircut, it was off to find new clothes. That wasn't _quite_ as bad as the haircut, but it was still bad. For one thing, Knight Kenobi had refused to let him get a completely black Jedi uniform. He'd managed to get away with the black leather over-strap-thingys, but that was really it. The rest was gray and dark brown. When he'd tried everything on to make sure it fit properly and didn't look ugly, he'd thought it looked nice. Knight Kenobi had just looked kind of annoyed.

And, finally, they had come here to this apartment. It included a small kitchen, a refresher, two bedrooms, and a common room. The whole place was quite bare and it was colored in pale muted tones. Vader imagined that some prisons looked more inviting than this place. But this was apparently home for as long as he enjoyed the protection of the Jedi Order.

Slowly pulling himself free of his thoughts, Vader sighed and got up. He opened the bundle that had rested on his lap and pulled out his first, and primary, set of Jedi robes. He shed his old tattered clothes and cape and donned his new uniform. It took forever. What was it with Jedi and so many layers of fabric anyway? Sure the effect of it all was nice, but it took _hours_ to get it looking right. Scowling with annoyance, he gathered up his old clothes and stuffed them into his new closet.

Now looking the part of a real Jedi Padawan, he slipped out of his room and warily looked about the common room. Knight Kenobi, his 'Master', was just out of sight poking around in the kitchen. Scratching self-consciously at the roots of his ridiculous skinny little braid, he padded over to the standard issue couch and sat down to wait.

Sometime later, the bearded Jedi Knight entered the room with a platter loaded with a steaming teapot and a pair of cups. Wordlessly he set the platter down and began pouring what was obviously tea into the two cups. Kenobi took one for himself and passed the other over to Vader.

Vader reluctantly took his cup and very hesitantly sampled the drink it contained. The smallest taste was enough to make him scowl at the dark tea in disgust. It tasted just as bad as he thought it would. Very tea-like. Why did people like this stuff, or at least claim to like it, anyway?

"Not a supporter of tea, I see." Kenobi murmured.

"No," Vader frowned at the murky stuff.

"Then I apologize in advance. My Master got me in the habit of drinking tea, especially after every mission. So I'll be asking you to make a lot of it." Knight Kenobi shrugged apologetically.

"Oh joy," Vader sighed, deeply sarcastic.

"You don't have to drink it if you really dislike it that much." Kenobi quietly pointed out.

Vader continued to glare at his cup. His mother had always taught him to finish his food and not waste it. They'd been too poor to afford to do otherwise. And fluids were even more valuable on his desert home world, it was practically a crime to waste any drink. So, most unhappily, he gave into habit and slowly worked on his tea.

_This sucks. It really, truly sucks. But dying, and suffering a lot before dying, is a million times worse. So…I'll give this a few months. And if I'm not crazy by then, I'll stay. Just a few months. That can't be too bad…_

…_Can it?_


	7. 6: Routines

**Chapter 6**  
_Routines_

Vader scrubbed the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes as he staggered out of the shower. After toweling dry, he shaved, since Padawans weren't allowed to be lazy like Knights or Masters could and leave some stubble on their faces every now and then. Then he set about re-tying his annoying, girly Padawan braid, careful to put the few colored strings back on the right places, before he pulled back the rest of his longish hair in the dorky, pointless ponytail.

His hair properly done up for the day, it was time for the clothes. After the necessary undergarments came the pants and the first layer of tunic. Then a second shirt followed by the black leather, the wide fabric belt, and then the narrow leather belt that held all the little utility pouches and lightsaber clip. Last, after checking all the pockets on his belt, he hooked his pretty silver Jedi lightsaber on and pulled on his boots. Dark brown-almost-black cloak in hand, he left the refresher to begin yet another day of playing Jedi.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan greeted with an absent nod as he sipped at his cup of tea.

"Morning," Vader muttered back, tossing his cloak onto the couch before sitting down opposite his Master.

"Did you sleep well?" Obi-Wan asked, as was part of their little morning routine.

"Well enough," Vader grumbled the usual answer, mechanically taking his own tea. He always answered that way, even if it wasn't exactly true. The vagueness of the answer generally protected him from being caught in a lie, since 'well enough' could mean anything. It could even mean he'd suffered some evil nightmare…again.

Obi-Wan nodded silently and kept on sipping at his drink. Vader mutely drank his own cup as he waited for the fog that still lingered in his own head to burn away. It was like this every day, every morning.

First he'd get up and shower while Obi-Wan, who was, of course, already awake, brewed the morning tea. After tea came morning meditation, an exercise in tortuous boredom. And then, only then, did they head for the mess hall for breakfast because, as he'd found out, the Master he'd chosen couldn't cook anything to save his life. And then after that the day would truly begin. It was always the same.

For four years now he had followed this routine. Thinking back on things, he probably should've left the Temple behind long ago. After those first few trial months, he should've packed up and left. But, like the idiot that he was, he stayed, thinking: just a few more months, just a few more. And so those four years had melted away before he'd truly realized it.

Mechanically, he set aside his empty tea mug and headed for the thick patch of carpet by the window. There, he kneeled beside his Master and went through the motions of meditation. His breathing slowed into a deep regular pattern, his eyes closed, his mind emptied, and he opened himself to the Light.

Once, when he'd first started the Jedi version of meditation, the Light had burned him. He was so used to the Darkness that his Force-senses hadn't been able to tolerate the power of the other side of the Force. It was like living in the darkest cave for years and then suddenly being thrown out into the brightest, harshest sunlight at high noon. It hurt, and only his determination not to fail had kept him at it until he became accustomed to the Jedi's power.

And then, after getting the hang of basic meditation, it was off to relearn everything he'd learned before. Levitation, mind control, far-seeing, sensing, saber fighting, all of it he had to learn anew. While there was the slight advantage that he knew how it was supposed to work already, the bad habit of the Dark Side made remembering to use the Light a more difficult prospect. But, being the stubborn bastard that he was, he'd somehow done it, and now only his Master and the Council knew and truly believed that he had first been of the Darkness, that he wasn't, and would never be, a true Jedi.

After a good hour or so had passed, Vader drew himself out of meditation. He slowly stood and stretched to get the kinks out of his muscles and joints. Once he felt and heard the appropriate cracks and pops, he scooped up his cloak, shrugged it on, and waited by the door for his Master to get up and do the same. It always took Obi-Wan longer to get going in the morning, despite the fact that he was the first one up.

Finally, Obi-Wan stirred from the thick soft carpet. The older man got up and pulled on his own much lighter cloak. He took his sweet time walking over to, and then through, the door. Out in the hall, Vader fell in step one stride behind and to the right of his Master, like a good Padawan. It was annoying, and stupid, and aggravating, but he did it, because all Padawans did it, and if he didn't do it, he'd stand out like a Wookiee in a crowd of Jawas.

Breakfast was simple. Today it was thick oatmeal with some scraps of fruit mixed in. While the cafeteria itself was a noisy place, with Initiates, Padawans, Knights, and Masters all conversing with each other, Vader and his Master ate in silence. Unless his Master had something important to tell him, or teach him, there never was any talk. Neither of them saw the point of useless chatter.

Morning meal eaten and over, they disposed of their used dishes and went on with their day. And that meant, unless otherwise stated, saber practice. Endless, numbing katas intermixed with short sparring matches. Sometimes he'd be pitted against other Padawans, maybe even Knights, though it was mostly against his Master. And this would go on until lunchtime.

Vader sighed wearily as they headed for the training rooms. _And so begins yet another wasted day…_

_

* * *

_

Obi-Wan rubbed a tired hand over his face as evening fell over Coruscant. Dinner had been, as usual, very nice. Nothing fancy, but it was tasty, nutritious, and filling. And then, after evening meditation, he'd sent Vader off to bed.

Glancing towards the boy's door he sighed. It was strange. In the beginning, it was simple to remember that Vader was of the Dark Side, someone to be hidden and protected, though not to be truly trusted. But, as the weeks had run into months and grown into years, it grew harder to keep distant from him, to not think of him as a true Jedi Padawan.

Vader was becoming too adept at mimicry. He knew just how to follow along in his shadow, knew just how to bow and address others. His slips in the use of Dark energy were so rare now that only when they happened did Obi-Wan recall that that was the side of the Force he had touched on first. Obi-Wan never thought that one of Darkness could turn away from it into the Light as this boy had. He once thought that, at the very least, the lack of a training bond with the boy would remind him of his true nature. But now he wasn't so sure.

All Masters had a link, a bond of mind, spirit, and Force, with their Padawans. Through it, thoughts and emotions could be shared with minimal effort and concentration. This was, not only an incredible tool for teaching, but a great tool for defense. Those who were bonded could always find one another, sense when the other was in danger, in pain. Only death or Knighthood could sever it.

Vader was terrified by any mental intrusion. If the Council had demanded that he bond with his 'Master', then Obi-Wan was sure that Vader would've refused their sanctuary. A bond went much deeper than a simple touching of minds, and while it could be blocked for a while, it could never be fully turned off. Vader would never have been able to stand such a thing. Whoever had first taught him the ways of the Force had forever ruined him in that respect, the boy could never trust or tolerate anyone else in his head, not even for a second.

Obi-Wan sighed as he fought off the now-familiar distant ache of anger at whoever had first trained the teenager. Vader was really such a bright boy, a marvelous student. The Knight found himself wishing that Vader really was a Jedi, and his Padawan. The boy was everything he could've wanted in a student. Strong, skilled, gifted, sharp (well, most of the time), cunning, and, at times, surprisingly brave.

True, he wasn't perfect, no one was. He had his flaws like all mortal creatures. He could be rude, crude, and downright cruel at times. Usually this came out in private, or on missions, times when he could get away with it without sending up warning flags among the other Jedi. And then there was the taint of the Dark side in him, a thing that, according to the ancient knowledge, would never truly leave him.

But, aside from that, Vader was the Padawan that Obi-Wan had always hoped to find. Though, this situation was not without a great amount of irony. He almost laughed as he considered it on the way to his sleep couch in his own private quarters.

_I find the perfect Padawan in one of the Dark Side. I teach him the ways and techniques of the Jedi and he most likely will use them against me one day. He is barely a step away from being the same as the Zabrak that I killed, the one who brought Master Qui-Gon his doom._

_Oh Master, what ever would you think of this if you were still here? Would you be disappointed? Or would you just laugh at me?_


	8. 7: Nightmare

**Chapter 7**  
_Nightmare_

_Familiar stars shone high overhead, distant and cold. Three moons, waning, hung up above, illuminating a sea of colorless sand with light that lacked any warmth. Bordering the endless sand dunes were the wastes, plains of rock riddled with deep craggy canyons. It was near midnight and it was very cold._

_Within the rocky wasteland was a camp of primitives, the sand people, the Tusken Raiders. Tents made of skins and bone huddled around small, flickering campfires. The women and children huddled out of sight, in the tents where it was warm and safe. The men sat around the fires, clutching their weapons tightly. On the fringes of the camp, mighty Banthas lounged, comfortable in the chill night due to their thick fur coats._

_Inside one particular tent on the edge of the camp a single human woman sat. Her arms were tied apart and over her head, cutting off circulation to her hands and making it difficult to breathe, impossible to rest. She was trapped kneeling in the sand, waiting._

_Several Tusken warriors abruptly ducked into the tent. They barked and snarled in their violent crude language for a few minutes. And then the beating started. They hit and kicked and cursed her. Each blow drew a hoarse cry from her raw dry throat and while she struggled, she was simply too weak to escape. Then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the Tuskens vanished back into the nigh, leaving the woman to gasp and moan in renewed pain._

"_Oh why…why won't anyone help me?" She wheezed hoarsely. "Ani…my Ani… Where are you?"_

_

* * *

_

Vader snapped upright in his bed, soaked in sweat and gasping for air. Trembling and disoriented, he fought his way free of his tangled sheets and almost fell to the floor. Once he realized that he was in his room deep in the Jedi Temple, he settled himself on the cool floor and worked to calm himself. Thankfully, it seemed, Obi-Wan was deep enough in sleep to have not been disturbed by the nightmare.

Frowning in concentration (and some annoyance) he thought back on the disturbing dream. Already the details were melting away. But what remained was frightening enough. He had seen his mother, in great pain, suffering torture, and she had called for him. Where she was and who was responsible, he didn't know, but now, more than ever before, he was sure that this wasn't just a dream. It was real.

For just over a week he'd suffered this exact same dream. Every time he drifted off to sleep, he would see her suffering, being beaten, and she would beg for help. There was no other explanation for such a recurring dream, it could only be real, a warning from the Force. And if he didn't act, she would die.

He wasn't going to let that happen. Mind made up, he got up off the floor, gathered up his clothes, and headed for the refresher. After a very quick, very quiet shower and shave, he got dressed and gathered up a few essentials.

As he stuffed his tools, a spare med-kit, and a stash of credits into his bag, he was very careful to mask his activity from Knight Kenobi. He didn't want to deal with Obi-Wan right now. After all, the man was a Jedi, and he'd never go along with Vader on this. The Jedi Order forbade attachment, they had no families, they were practically raised in a bubble in the heart the Temple. Obi-Wan would never understand, or support, Vader's choice in this.

Stealthily he crept out of their shared apartment and through the halls of the Jedi Temple. There were a few people awake, but not many, and they were easily avoided. Not a soul saw him as he slunk his way into the Temple Hanger.

He selected a Jedi Starfighter. The wedge-shaped craft was beautiful and highly maneuverable, but it was, in his opinion, deeply flawed. It had no internal hyperdrive and instead relied on a booster ring to make the jump to hyperspace. Also, its shielding and firepower were not as great as they could've been. But for a quick trip to Tatooine, it would do just fine.

Now to find a ship with a good astromech, a distinctive short, squat, cylindrical droids whose primary function was to repair. Many one or two-man fighters had slots for the droids so that they could repair damaged ships mid-battle to improve the pilot's chance of survival. In the Jedi Starfighter, the space for an astromech was limited, so the droids had their lower halves removed and were permanently wired into the ships. Vader found this feature to also be a major flaw, not to mention annoying.

In the end, he decided to borrow Obi-Wan's. R4-P17 was a decent droid. The red-domed droid was very obedient and loyal. It shouldn't take much to persuade the robot to help him out, especially if he told a little white lie. Droids couldn't feel the Force, couldn't be Jedi, and so there was no way for it to know that he was lying. And if he took this ship, Obi-Wan would be delayed in chasing him down, which was a definite plus.

He lightly sprung up on the top of the fighter and opened the canopy. This activity awoke the dozing astromech and Arfour let out a surprised string of binary warbles and chirps. The translation of the droid's cries flashed up on a screen inside the cockpit which, as Vader began flipping switches and turning on systems, glowed to life.

WHAT'S GOING ON PADAWAN VADER? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHERE IS KNIGHT KENOBI? The droid wanted to know.

"Master is still sleeping. I'm going out for a quick little flight. Care to join me?" Vader snorted, as he began to strap himself in.

WHERE WILL YOU FLY TO? Arfour asked curiously.

"A short hop out to the Outer Rim and back. It shouldn't take more than a day or so." Vader shrugged as he keyed up the engines.

THE OUTER RIM? Arfour squeaked. DOES THE COUNCIL APROVE OF THIS?

"Yes," Vader lied.

AND KNIGHT KENOBI ISN'T COMING?

"Nope, he trusts me." Vader lied again.

WHAT IS THE NATURE OF THIS TRIP?

"I'm investigating a vision." Vader replied truthfully.

The Starfighter was now completely warmed up and Vader entered the codes to open the hanger. The door in the side of one of the massive spires of the Temple opened and the platform on which the ship rested was thrust outward into the night air of Coruscant. With practiced ease, he lifted the fighter up from the platform and through the atmosphere towards the planetary hyper-limit. As he went, aiming for an orbiting booster ring, he started pulling up the coordinates he needed for his jump.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PLOT THE COURSE? Arfour offered.

"No thanks, I'm not lazy like Obi-Wan." Vader scoffed, disgusted at his Master's attitude concerning flying. He skillfully guided the pointed nose of his ship into the link-up with the hyperspace booster ring.

ALRIGHT THEN, DON'T HESITATE TO ASK ME IF YOU NEED ANYTHING. Arfour chirped cheerful.

"Don't worry, I will." Vader muttered, locking in the coordinates and pulling the lever that triggered the jump. In a fraction of a second the pinpoints of starlight lengthened into white lines and then melded together into the white-blue mists of hyperspace. Then Vader sat back and slipped into a light Force-trance while he waited to arrive over Tatooine.

* * *

As the sun began to rise over Coruscant, Obi-Wan got up to begin his day. He rose, showered, and set a pot of water to boil for the morning tea. And then it was off to make sure that his 'Padawan' was conscious and on his way to being truly awake. 

He knocked on Vader's door and listened carefully for a response. When he got none, he knocked harder and called out to him. "It's morning, time to get up." Still nothing. "Vader, get up." Utter silence.

Obi-Wan sighed before stretching out his Force-senses to check on the boy. He sensed nothing. Not a sulking Padawan, not a sleeping one either, just nothing. The only explanation for that was that Vader had mysteriously died, or wasn't in there. Since he hadn't detected the boy's death, Vader simply wasn't inside. A quick peek through the door confirmed that. So…where was he?

_I have a bad feeling about this…_


	9. 8: Tatooine

**Chapter 8**  
_Tatooine_

It was just how he remembered it. A golden-and-brown orb that shone with reflected sunlight against the pitch darkness of space. It was a vision of his personal Hell and former prison. It was Tatooine. Home sweet home.

Sighing noisily, Vader took the control stick and pressed the nose down into the atmosphere after jettisoning the hyperspace booster ring into orbit. As he grew closer to the ground, he set a course for the spaceport of Mos Espa. Once he got there, he could pay Watto a visit and check-up on his mother. If his vision was true (he was pretty sure that it was), he would take care of it.

He set the red and white Starfighter down in an open docking bay and locked it down to keep thieves and Jawas out of it. With a few quick instructions to Arfour, he was striding across the sands of the landing pad and out onto the street. And from there he went on memory, heading back to the site of the majority of his life as a slave.

When he got there, Watto was perched out front, struggling to repair a broken pit droid. The greasy blue Toydarian was fatter and scruffier-looking than Vader remembered. The scummy alien was clearly in a bad mood and impatiently knocked the other pit droids around as he continually failed to fix the broken droid.

"_Hey there Watto!_ _What's up?"_ Vader smirked, sliding easily into Huttese.

"_Eh, what?_ _Who the Hell are you?"_ Watto demanded, suspicious.

"_Here, let me help you with that."_ Vader offered, pulling the droid away from Watto and fixing it himself.

Watto squinted up at Vader warily. "_What do you want?"_

"_I've come for information."_ Vader replied.

"_What sort of information?"_ Watto growled. Then he caught a glimpse of Vader's silvery Jedi lightsaber and panicked. "_Whatever it was, I didn't do it! I swear!"_

"_I'm not after you. I want to know where Shmi Skywalker is."_ Vader snorted, annoyed at his former owner's cowardice.

The Toydarian blinked, then squinted thoughtfully up at Vader. "Ani?" Watto whispered. When Vader failed to deny it and set the perfectly repaired droid on the table, the Toydarian grinned, fluttering up off his bench. "Ani, long time no see! Look at you, eh? A Jedi?"

"Where is my mother Watto?" Vader demanded.

"Oh, eh, your mother? Well, uh, I'm sorry Ani, but I got into lots of debts and… I had to sell her." Watto shrugged nervously, his eye fixed on Vader's lightsaber hilt.

Vader fought back a surge of anger. "Who did you sell her to?"

"Ah, a moisture farmer. Lars, I think his name was. Lives on the other side of Mos Eisley." Watto replied.

"Could you be more specific?" Vader growled.

"Uh, let me check my records, I'm sure I have it somewhere." Watto grumbled, fluttering back inside his dim cool shop.

Vader sighed with aggravation before following the Toydarian inside. _Why can't I ever have it easy?_

_

* * *

_

A few hours later, he settled his Starfighter outside a small, half-buried farmstead. After powering it down, he hopped out of the cockpit and headed for the door of the little domed house. On his way, he passed a grimy protocol droid that, at one point, had been silver. He didn't really pay any attention to it, until it greeted him, that is.

"Greetings sir, I am C–" It began in a prissy voice.

"Threepio?" Vader paused, staring in disbelief. When the Count had carried him off he still hadn't found all coverings for the droid he'd built for his mother.

"Why-why Master Anakin!" Threepio exclaimed joyfully. "The Maker! I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Hey Threepio," Vader grinned weakly, feeling oddly off-balance as he was confronted with such a big piece of his past. "Where's Mom?"

"Oh, oh dear," Threepio fussed, suddenly becoming worried. "Please follow me."

Vader swallowed and trailed after his old droid. He was suddenly overcome by dread. _I have a bad feeling about this…_

Threepio led him to a sunken courtyard and a pair of young people, a man and a woman. "Master Owen, Mistress Beru" the droid greeted, "it is my great pleasure to introduce my Maker, Anakin Skywalker."

"I've heard of you," Owen nodded, fiddling with some towel. "I'm Owen Lars and…well…I guess I'd be your step-brother." He shrugged.

Vader blinked stupidly. _Um, what?_

"This is my girlfriend, Beru Whitesun." Owen nodded to the pretty blonde woman.

"Hi," Vader muttered warily, still confused. "I'm, uh, looking for my Mom."

"Right, you'll want to talk to my father then, this way." Owen muttered, heading inside the house with his girlfriend at his heels.

Vader bit his lip and followed after the girlfriend. If it was possible, his feelings on this situation got even worse. _I'm really not liking_ _this…not one bit._

His sudden, mysterious 'step-brother' brought him to a bedroom. Lying on the bed was an older man, pale and ill-looking. Beneath the sheets his right leg came to a sudden stop at the knee and one of his arms was swathed in thick gauzy bandages. Vader clung desperately to the last shreds of calm he possessed, willing himself not to panic.

"Hey Dad, Anakin's here." Owen whispered.

The man struggled upright in his bed and Beru helped prop him up with some pillows. Grimacing in pain, he extended his un-bandaged arm for Vader to shake. "Cliegg Lars, this is my farm." The man rasped. "Shmi's told me a lot about you, and I always hoped to get the chance to meet you."

"Er…" Vader blinked.

"I'll explain," Cliegg sighed wearily, picking up on Vader's confusion. "When I first bought your mother, I only meant for her to work my garden after my first wife had died. But as I got to know her, I came to love and respect her, so I set her free. I expected her to leave and make her own way, but she stayed, and eventually we married and she became my son Owen's step-mother. And, she told us all about you." The man paused for breath, and looked sad.

"Everything was going well for us. And then, one day, Shmi got up early and went to pick the mushrooms that grow on the vaporators, just like she always did. From the tracks, the Tuskens got her on the way back home. I gathered up a group of other farmers…to try and get her back…but only three of us survived. And, well, look at me," he waved weakly at himself.

"It's been over a week. There's no way she could've survived so long." He fisted his good hand. "Those Tuskens, they walk like men, but they're animals." Cliegg squeezed his eyes shut to ward off tears, but when he opened them again, Vader had vanished.

"Where did he go?"

* * *

Vader hunched low over the handlebars of the swoop bike he'd 'borrowed'. In the west, the suns were setting, but he barely noticed. His hard blue eyes were fixed on the rocky wastes, the badlands where most of the Tusken Raider tribes could be found.

_They might've given up hope, but I haven't. They can't help you, but I can. I'll find you Mom, and I'll save you. I promise…_


	10. 9: Rescue

**Chapter 9**  
_Rescue_

It was deep night now. The triple moons were mere slivers of white, barely giving off more light than the tiny distant stars. The air was cold enough for his breath to form misty clouds of vapor in front of his face. But he barely noticed the dark night and cold air. What he did notice was the Tusken Raider camp spread out in the valley beneath his hidden position high up on a cliff.

Angry did not even come close to describing his mood. Furious was closer, but it still wasn't a strong enough descriptor. Enraged beyond all measure was as close as language came to defining his current emotional state. If he was certain that his mother was perfectly safe and he was in the middle of that camp right now, he'd slaughter them all like the filthy animals that they were.

But his mother wasn't safe; she was down there hidden away in a tent. If he went down there now with lightsaber blazing, they could very well kill her before he was able to cut his way to her. And so stealth was his only option, mass-murder would have to wait.

Leaning hard on the training he'd received from Obi-Wan, he cast aside his anger and sought a sort of calm clarity. If he used the Dark Side in this situation, he could very likely lose his head and sight of his main objective, save Mom, and just go on a killing spree. So he would use the Light Side.

With great effort, he pulled himself into a light meditative trance. He forcibly divorced himself from his emotions, and watched the movements in the camp with a detached air. Vader did his best to be droid-like, to quickly and efficiently weigh each possibility, each plan. And only when he felt he had a few good plans of action in mind and the Force felt right, did he move.

Silent as a shadow, he slunk down the cliff to the valley camp below. He paused when his boots hit the sand, waiting for the Force to tell him when it was safe to make his move. When the prompting came, he darted over the open ground to the cover of the primitive bone-and-hide tents. From there, it was a simple matter of avoiding the Tusken sentries and finding the right tent.

Despite his attempts at a calm mind, the blood was roaring in his ears and his heart raced. Adrenalin was doing its best to undo his hard-won Jedi trance. His 'inner peace' was slowly crumbling. And there was no place for him to stop and work to get it back. If he was caught, the Tuskens wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

A faint tug in the flowing streams of the Force led him to a certain tent on the very fringes of the camp. Two male Tuskens sat vigil outside the front flap, so Vader slipped around behind it. Then, he used a little mind-trick to incite a pair of bull Banthas to get into a fight. Their battle cries made enough noise to cover the sound of a lightsaber carving a second door into the dome-shaped tent.

Vader darted inside, squinting slightly against the flickering glare of a glass lamp powered by animal fat. Against one wall of the tent, his mother hung, strung up by her wrists. She was eerily still and silent. With shaking hands, he sank down beside her and fumbled with the leather ties that bound her.

She moaned faintly, gasping in pain when blood rushed back into her hands. Once she was free, she sank into his arms no longer strong enough to support her own weight. When he brushed her hair from her face he was horrified at the damage he saw.

Her face was puffy and spotted with bruises. A dried trail of blood was caked at one corner of her mouth. Her hair was a mess, and greyer than he remembered. Her clothes were torn and peppered with blood stains. She looked like death warmed over.

"Mom?" He whispered hoarsely.

"Mmm…" She groaned and her eyes fluttered for several seconds before opening. Her brown eyes seemed to take an eternity to focus on his face. "A…Ani?"

"Yes Mom, it's me." Vader whispered, gently stroking her battered face. "I've come to get you."

"O-oh Ani…look at you. You're all grown up." She croaked, slowly raising an arm to trace the contours of his face, as if to confirm that he was real.

"Yeah," Vader grinned a little, blinking back tears. He cursed himself for not bringing any water with him, she sure looked like she was in serious need of some. But there was nothing he could do about it now. "Hang on Mom, we're getting out of here." He told her and very carefully gathered her up into his arms.

It was strange, he'd always thought she'd be heavy, but in reality she really wasn't. Maybe it was because he'd always been smaller than her before, but now that he was fully grown and several inches taller than her, it wasn't true. Moving slowly so as not to jostle her unnecessarily, he crept out of the hole he'd cut in the back of the tent.

Since she wasn't able to run, he used the same mind trick he'd used before to stir up all of the Banthas and divert the camp's attention. While the small herd milled about on one side of the encampment, Vader smuggled his mother away on the other. The Force was with them and they made it to the cliffs unseen.

From there, Vader was forced to sling his mother over his shoulder to get back to the top. He could always look for an easier route, but he feared that would take too much time. He really didn't want to be around when the sand people discovered their prisoner had broken loose.

"Hang on Mom," Vader murmured as he carefully settled her on the swoop bike in front of him. "Just a short ride and you'll be home, safe and sound."

"Okay," she moaned, sinking weakly against his chest as he revved the engine.

"Hang on," he repeated and then leaned on the throttle. The swoop bike roared before lurching forward, swiftly vanishing into the night…

* * *

Obi-Wan slumped dejectedly onto his sleep couch in his quarters, burying his head in his hands. He'd spent all day hunting for his wayward charge and come up with nothing but a missing Starfighter, his own Starfighter in fact. He found this most disappointing and worrisome.

It was his job to keep an eye on the boy at all times. It was his duty to keep him safe from whatever enemies hunted him. The boy was his responsibility and bothered him immeasurably that Vader was so foolish as to vanish without giving any warning. If Vader had decided to leave the Temple for good, Obi-Wan expected to at least be left a note saying that that was what was going on. There had been no such note or any other warning of any kind.

_This is partly my fault,_ Obi-Wan mentally sighed. _Aside from training him, I barely pay any attention to him. There were probably signs that I missed that would've hinted at his disappearance and, more importantly, why and where he's gone._

Sighing aloud, he lay down and tried to sleep. There was nothing more he could do tonight. He could only sleep and then wait for either Vader's return, or some news of his whereabouts.

Sleep was a long time coming…

* * *

Vader leaned against the wall of the sunken courtyard of the Lars' farmstead. One finger tapped an impatient rhythm against his upper arm as he waited for the doctor's report. It was all he could do to keep from all-out pacing like a caged animal.

In the early morning, just as the greater sun was rising, he'd made it back with his Mom. She'd been unconscious, but thankfully was still alive. Owen, who'd been so blank and uncaring when he'd first met him, had nearly lost himself to excited panic at seeing the woman he considered to be his mother return from certain death. Fortunately Beru took things in hand and settled Shmi into a bed and called the local doctor.

Waiting along with him was Owen, being held back from pacing as well by Beru, and Cliegg who was propped up in a hover-chair. Even the droid, Threepio hovered anxiously nearby. The air was tense with anxiety and excited hope. No one who had been captured by the Tuskens had ever made it back alive before. Everyone prayed that Shmi would be the first.

The doctor, a bespectacled older man with skin the color and apparent texture of wrinkled, aged leather, finally emerged out into the double-sunlight. Cliegg steered his chair over to the man and Owen all but dashed to the doctor's side with Beru close behind and Threepio edging nearer after her. Vader stubbornly forced himself to stay by the wall. He felt like an outsider here and had no wish to horn in on this family's moment of togetherness.

"She is a bit dehydrated, malnourished, and bruised, but she has no serious internal injuries or broken bones. With fluids, food, and a few weeks bed-rest, she should be as good as new." The doctor declared, looking very pleased.

"Oh thank the Gods," Cliegg sighed, limp with relief.

"Wonderful news!" Threepio cried, both relieved and elated.

Owen and Beru said nothing, they just hugged and smiled. Watching them, Vader felt an odd twinge of envy. He was just as glad, if not more so, than they were, but, again, he felt out of place. After his nightmarish time with the Count and then his dully serene time among the Jedi, he felt…different…damaged. He wasn't the same as he had been as a child, like he wasn't quite human anymore. His mother had a new life now, a new family, and he didn't belong anymore.

Almost before he realized it, he was climbing the stairs back up to the ground level. He strode stiffly to his waiting Jedi Starfighter and threw himself into the cockpit. Without really thinking about it, he brought everything online and blasted skyward.

He'd done what he'd come here to do. He'd found his mother and gotten her to safety. Now that he knew she would be fine, it was time for him to go. So he hooked up with his orbiting booster ring and locked in a course back to Coruscant. In under ten minutes, he had left Tatooine behind and was deep into the misty world of hyperspace.


	11. 10: Something Shocking

**Chapter 10  
**_Something Shocking…_

Vader tensed as he brought Obi-Wan's Starfighter out of hyperspace above the city planet of Coruscant. It was roughly noon now and since he'd skipped dinner yesterday and breakfast this morning he was starving. But since he'd snuck out of the Temple almost two days ago, he was more worried about what sort of trouble he was going to be in than getting food.

Gripping the control stick tightly, he dropped the booster ring back in its orbit and dove into the atmosphere. He easily slipped through the layers of air traffic, from the mighty space-faring vessels to the thick rivers of speeders and air cars. The red and white Jedi Starfighter darted gracefully towards the mighty Jedi Temple and the spire where the hanger was located. At the last moment, he keyed in his pass-code and the hanger opened up to admit him.

After shutting down the ship and bidding Arfour a hasty farewell, Vader headed back to his shared apartment. Keeping his hood up and his head down, he managed to escape notice from the Jedi he passed in the halls of the Temple. The Force was with him for the moment, and he ran into no one he knew, arriving safely and undiscovered in the apartment.

Sighing in relief at avoiding Obi-Wan's scrutiny for just a little while longer, Vader trudged over to the little kitchen in search of food. While Obi-Wan never cooked, he did keep some drinks, simple snacks, and the ingredients for sandwiches stocked. So, he poured himself a glass of juice and threw together a few sandwiches and settled down on a couch in front of the holo-viewer. Staving off a bout of nerves, he idly surfed the HoloNet channels in search of distraction as he enjoyed his lunch.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed wearily and ran a hand over his face. Still no word on Vader, no clue, no sighting. He would've liked to go out and search, but the Council didn't see the need just yet. They sensed no danger to the boy and he had not yet been gone long enough to warrant alarm. But he, personally, was worried. And, after being told to stop hovering about by Master Windu, he was going back to his quarters to worry in private.

He palmed open the door, stepped inside, and froze in astonishment. There, lounging on the couch, eating a sandwich, and watching some program on the holo-viewer, was Vader. The boy was utterly oblivious to Obi-Wan's presence, his gaze focused intently on what appeared to be a race of some kind.

The Jedi Knight frowned, once the shock wore off, and padded over to stand beside Vader. Still the young man was completely engrossed in watching the odd race; he totally failed to notice Obi-Wan's shadow on him. Obi-Wan crossed his arms and pointedly cleared his throat. Vader almost appeared to jump a full meter into the air in shocked surprise.

"Where have you been?" Obi-Wan inquired, half-annoyed half-amused.

"Out," Vader muttered. His angry glare was softened by the flush of embarrassment that colored his young face.

"Out where?" Obi-Wan pressed.

"None of your business!" Vader snapped defensively.

Obi-Wan frowned and shook his head. "It _is_ my business. You, and your safety, are my responsibility. If you don't tell me where you're going and what you're going to do, how can I help you?" He pointed out. "Or…do you really even need my help? Do you really require to hide among the Jedi? Perhaps those you fear no longer hunt you. Or…maybe you are just here to try and steal some secret of the Order?" Obi-Wan disliked asking these questions, they made him uncomfortable. But it was entirely possible that Vader could be here for those reasons. So he asked.

Vader glared defiantly up at Obi-Wan for a few long moments before dropping his gaze to the floor. He shifted in his seat, radiating flashes of anxiety, anger, and… something else, something difficult to pin down. And then Vader steeled his nerves and did something totally out of his character. He apologized.

"I…I am deeply sorry Master." Vader stammered, surprising Obi-Wan to no end. Not only was he apologizing, but he'd used 'Master' to address him. Normally he only used the title in public, in the private of their quarters it was either 'Obi-Wan' or, more usually, 'Kenobi'. "I had a…personal matter that I wished to see to alone. I was not thinking clearly. I will not do it again… F-forgive me…Master."

It took a few moments for Obi-Wan to regain his wits and reply to that. "'A personal matter'?"

"Yes, a personal matter. It's taken care of and it shouldn't be a problem ever again." Vader growled testily.

"Well that's good to know," Obi-Wan sighed, disappointed at the vague answer. "But if another such matter does come up, please either take me with you or tell me that you're going and how long you expect to be gone."

"Yes Master," Vader murmured dully, bowing his head slightly in acceptance.

"Good," Obi-Wan nodded and settled himself down on the couch beside the young man. "Was it a good race?" He asked, motioning to the holo-screen.

"Not really," Vader blinked, caught off-guard by the subject change. "I've seen better."

"What sort of race was it anyway?" Obi-Wan asked.

"A pod race," Vader replied. "Haven't you seen one before?"

"I heard mention of it before once, early in my apprenticeship while on Malastare. But no, I've never seen one." Obi-Wan shrugged. "And there's little chance I'll ever see one in person seeing as pod racing is quite illegal within most of the Republic."

"Yes, so I've heard." Vader grumbled. "Though I don't see why."

"It is a very dangerous sport, too dangerous for most civilizations' tastes. Those of the Core see themselves above such 'barbaric' forms of entertainment." Obi-Wan explained.

"Just because it's dangerous doesn't make it barbaric." Vader snorted. "If that's how they define barbaric, then just taking a drive on Coruscant is barbaric."

"True," Obi-Wan conceded, "very true."

Silence fell between them as Vader finished his lunch and the sports program ran through some summaries and commentaries of a few other recent pod races. Obi-Wan let the silence run its course. He never minded the quiet. Henever was one of those people who always felt they needed to say something or listen to something to keep back the silence. When Vader was ready to continue speaking, he would, and not a moment before. And once he finished eating and the program ended, he was ready.

"So what will we do today?" Vader asked calmly, switching off the holo-screen.

"Well first, I have to get in touch with the Council to let them know you've reappeared. And after that, I was thinking of a short saber lesson, followed by some extra meditation." Obi-Wan answered.

"Yes, Master." Vader groaned, obviously unhappy with the extra meditation.

Obi-Wan almost felt like chuckling. Vader seemed to have a great hatred for meditation of any kind, though Obi-Wan couldn't fathom why. He could barely manage the usual amount of meditation, and anything extra was guaranteed to make him cranky, but it had to be done. Meditation was an essential part of life for the Jedi; it cleared and centered the mind, and kept everything in balance. So long as Vader stayed, he'd just have to put up with it.

"Come along now Padawan, let's get started." Obi-Wan rose up off the couch and headed for the door.

Vader groaned dramatically, but he did as he was told, thankfully without swearing this time. The boy was really improving. Someday Obi-Wan felt it was quite possible that he would forget that the boy had ever touched on the Dark Side. But not today.

"Stupid, kriffing meditation…" Vader cussed under his breath.

_No, definitely not today…_

* * *

Vader sighed in deep relief when he felt the tap on his shoulder that gave him permission to stop meditating. He eagerly staggered up off the carpet and lurched towards his room and sleep couch. Soon he'd been laying on it and asleep. And there would be no nightmares tonight.

"Hold on a moment." Knight Kenobi called after him.

"Yes, _Master_?" Vader grumbled, slowly turning around to face Kenobi.

"I thought you would like to know that tomorrow we will be assigned a mission." The Knight informed.

"Oh?" Vader blinked.

"Yes, Master Windu told me that we will be sent to Ansion to mediate a border dispute."

Vader swallowed a moan. "_Great,_ a border dispute mediation, just what I've _always wanted_." He muttered with great sarcasm.

"Yes, I thought you'd enjoy that." Kenobi replied dryly. "Good night Padawan."

"'Night Master." Vader mumbled as he stumbled off to bed.

Since he hadn't slept the night before, and not slept well for a few weeks before that, he was having some difficulty in keeping awake long enough to at least get his boots and belt off. After somehow worming out of his tunic, he flopped back onto his sleep couch and closed his eyes. Less than a second later, he was asleep. He had no more nightmares.


	12. 11: An Unhappy Assignment

**Chapter 11  
**_An Unhappy Assignment_

Vader scowled furiously at the floor of the liftcar as he and his Master rode it up to the penthouse apartment of some Nabooan Senator that they were supposed to bodyguard. It was stupid, really. He, Vader, was supposed to be the one being guarded; he wasn't supposed to get some assignment where he had to guard someone else. It could be dangerous. But apparently,Obi-Wan had met this particular Senator sometime before, and she would only really tolerate him as opposed to some strange Jedi she'd had no dealings with before.

In fact, it sounded like she didn't even want any Jedi bodyguards. She didn't feel that she was in enough danger to warrant any. Vader was inclined to agree with her. But no one had asked him, and the Council and Supreme Chancellor had overruled her, so she was stuck with them, and they with her.

"Nervous?" Knight Kenobi asked.

"Not at all." Vader sighed.

"Annoyed?" Kenobi wondered.

"Very much so." Vader growled.

"Don't be. This is a very simple assignment. All you need to do is be alert and listen to the Force. I'll take care of anything dangerous, though I doubt we'll encounter much of anything." Kenobi assured him.

"I hope so." Vader frowned. This assignment gave him the feeling of being…exposed somehow. It hadn't even started yet and he already wanted it over yesterday.

"What will probably give you the most trouble is being polite to the Senator and her staff." Kenobi sighed.

"Yeah," Vader admitted, "probably."

Kenobi only sighed again and silence reigned until the lift doors opened. Then a brief moment of mild chaos ensued. A tall, gangly Gungan swaggered over to greet them. A disturbingly familiar Gungan. A Gungan who freaked out at the sight of Obi-Wan.

"Obi?" The Gungan squeaked. "Obi!" He cried again, rushing over to very enthusiastically shake the Jedi's hand. "Meesa so smilin' to be seein' yousa!"

"Hello Jar Jar, it's very good to see you too." Obi-Wan gave a small, polite bow.

_Jar Jar?_ Vader blinked, surprised. _Jar Jar as in 'Jar Jar Binks'?_

They followed the robed Gungan through the apartment hallway until they came out into a large main room. Two women conversed in quiet tones in the far corner and a dark-skinned man with an eye-patch stood a few feet away from them. Vader also noticed a vaguely familiar blue-and-white astromech plugged into a power outlet along a different wall.

"Senator, lookee lookee! Disa Jedi arriven!" Jar Jar cried cheerfully.

"Master Kenobi!" The prettier woman cried, striding over to them. "It has been far too long."

"It is a pleasure to see you again Milady," Kenobi bowed deeply. "Though I would much prefer to see you under better circumstances."

"Yes, so would I." The smile that had been on her face faded away as her expression turned slightly sour. "Hopefully I won't waste too much of your time. The situation really isn't serious enough to warrant such extreme measures."

"I fear I must disagree with the Senator's assessment of things, Master Jedi." The dark-skinned man with the eye-patch interrupted. "Captain Typho, head of security. I look forward to working with you."

"Thank you Captain," Kenobi bowed slightly to the man. "I assure you Milady, we will do our best to keep you safe. Our presence will be invisible." He promised the Senator.

"I don't need anymore security, I need answers." The Senator huffed. "I want to know who wants to kill me so badly so that I can address the issue!"

'_Address the issue?'_ Vader mentally snorted. _Lady, this isn't some ordinary business in the Senate, I seriously doubt you can ask the assassins nicely to leave you alone._

"Please relax Milady. We will do our best and hopefully the situation will work itself out quickly." Kenobi soothed.

"I don't doubt you Obi-Wan," she sighed, "I'm just frustrated."

"Understandable," Kenobi nodded. "Now, Captain, could we go over your current security plans?"

"Of course, this way," the Captain nodded, walking over to a data terminal.

"Stay with the Senator," Kenobi murmured into Vader's ear as he passed him.

Vader swallowed a sigh and nodded. He kept to the wall, out of the Senator's line of sight, and she didn't appear to notice him. He intended to keep it that way. After all, Kenobi had promised that their presence would be 'invisible', so that's what he'd strive to do. It wasn't really all that hard as she seemed to be quite distracted, her mind probably drifting off onto dull government matters.

He rolled his eyes at the thought and then took the opportunity to study the woman. She was very pretty, beautiful even, and surprisingly young. Her long brown curly hair was done up in a somewhat elaborate style entwined with some funky-looking metal hairpiece thing. And she wore long heavy senatorial robes covered in embroidery. Overall, he thought of her as beautiful in a regal, refined sort of way.

Though something about her reminded him of someone else. A lifetime ago, he'd met another Nabooan, a simple Handmaiden named Padmé Naberrie. She'd come into Mos Espa with the Gungan, Jar Jar, the astromech, R2-D2, and the Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, in search of replacement parts for their broken ship.

An angel, he'd called her, because she'd been so pretty and kind. This Senator wasn't like that. She was pretty sure, but this Senator, Padmé _Amidala_, didn't seem all that kind. She was more concerned about herself and who could ever want to kill her. And she was quite ungrateful towards Kenobi and all his attempts to be considerate and polite. No, these two Nabooan Padmés appeared to be quite different in the personality department.

The other woman in the apartment who had not been introduced came to stand beside the Senator. There was a very superficial resemblance between the two, both being female with brown eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. But up close, side-by-side, the differences between them were very clear.

"My Lady," the woman murmured softly, "evening is approaching. What would you like for dinner?"

"I don't know, Dormé. Why don't you pick the meal tonight, surprise me." Amidala sighed.

"All right then, I shall do my best, my Lady." Dormé bowed and vanished to make the necessary arrangements.

"Thank you Dormé," the Senator murmured after her.

Amidala drew inward once more without her aide as a distraction. Her face fell into a frown and her arms crossed over chest as she thought. Perhaps she considered some up-coming legislation. Maybe she was making up lists of enemies that might want her dead. Or it could be something else entirely. He really didn't know. And he didn't care either.

"Milady?" Kenobi asked, reappearing from his conference with Typho. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she smiled, though it was forced and humorless, "just thinking."

"Please don't worry." Kenobi begged her.

"I cannot help _but_ worry. Whoever wants me dead couldn't have chosen a worse time. If I am killed or driven off Coruscant before the vote on the Military Creation Act is cast I fear for the outcome. With all the unrest in the Republic these days the fear and mistrust that an army would bring could be disastrous." Senator Amidala sighed.

"Hmm," Kenobi mumbled, apparently thinking hard on something. "Who do you think has ordered your death?"

"I can't say for certain, and I have no proof, but…my suspicions lie on Count Dooku. He is the ideological leader of the Separatist Movement and while he claims to seek a peaceful resolution, all his speeches seem to lean towards armed conflict than a more peaceful path." Amidala replied.

If Knight Kenobi said anything in response to that, Vader did not hear it. He didn't even hear all of what the Senator said. His hearing failed him after the words 'Count Dooku' reached his ears. All the blood drained from his face and he went still as death.

_Dooku…_


	13. 12: Bad First Impressions

**Chapter 12  
**_Bad First Impressions_

Vader studied the vid-screens that displayed the feeds from the new security cameras dully. Everything was completely normal. On the lower levels he could see guards dressed in the same uniforms as the Captain standing by all points of entry. There were also cameras positioned throughout the apartment with their lenses mainly focused on views facing out of the windows. And the last line of visual surveillance was a couple cameras in the Senator's bedchambers. Every view was working and, of course, nothing of interest was happening.

_Damn, this is going to be a long night…_ Vader groaned to himself, balling his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. The Senator's almost casual mention of Count Dooku still disturbed him, and he hated himself for his weakness.

"Who are you?" Amidala demanded, stepping up behind him.

Vader smirked. _So you finally see me, eh? How long has it been? Four hours at least._ "No one important." He replied, keeping his back to her. _The less I have to deal with you, the better._

"You must be important if you are here. Now who are you?" She countered sternly.

"Just a Padawan here to assist Knight Kenobi." Vader shrugged.

"And do you have a name?" She pressed.

"You are quite persistent." Vader sighed, finally turning to face her. "If you wish a name to call me by, then call me Vader."

"Vader," she frowned. "Do you have a last name?"

"No," he replied flatly, turning back to the security screens.

"But you must, there is no human culture that I know of that grants only one name." Amidala protested.

"My duty is to protect you from those that seek to harm you, not to answer your questions." Vader retorted tightly. _Would you drop it already?_

"If I do not know you, how can I trust you?" She challenged.

"Do you trust Obi-Wan?" Vader asked.

"Yes, of course I do." Amidala snapped.

"Then you have nothing to fear." He insisted. "It is late Milady, you should retire for the night." He cut her off before she could continue their pointless argument.

"You are the most infuriating Jedi I have ever met!" She spat, brushing past him into her private chambers in a huff.

"And you are the most infuriating Senator I have ever met." Vader snorted at her closed door.

Of course, the door gave him no reply. Sighing wearily, he focused his attention on the cameras in the bedchamber. He could see Amidala pacing and muttering to herself, but he could not hear what she said, so he amused himself with imagining her whispered rants. And then she did something monumentally stupid. She took some scraps of clothing and covered the two cameras that watched her room. Swallowing a list of foul Huttese curses, Vader opened her door and peered inside.

"That's not a good idea," he frowned and reached towards the cameras with the Force to uncover them.

"Leave those be, I demand some privacy!" She snapped.

"At the cost of your safety?" Vader wondered, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"I am perfectly safe without those blasted cameras." She declared. "I have Artoo with me. He can warn me of any intruders."

The squat astromech chirped an affirmative sound from his post in the corner.

Vader scowled at her, but she held his stare. In the end, his impatience won out and he looked away. "Fine, have it your way." He growled, stalking off and childishly wishing that her door was the old-fashioned kind with hinges. Those kinds of doors you could slam.

Vader scowled at a far wall as he stood at his post outside Amidala's door. He was still irked at her foolish desire for privacy. Sure, Artoo was probably enough, but paired with the cameras he would be even more effective.

_Idiot woman, does she want to die?_ He wondered for the thousandth time. Such measures wouldn't last forever. Once the threat was past she wouldn't have to worry about cameras in her bedchambers or any other infringement on her precious privacy. She should be grateful. She wasn't in a position like his, he had no end to his charade to look forward to in the foreseeable future.

"How are things going?" Kenobi asked as he walked over to stand by Vader's side.

"Well enough. Everything's quiet." Vader shrugged.

"Are the camera feeds not working?" Obi-Wan asked as he studied the screens that should've showed Amidala's bedchamber.

"She covered the cameras." Vader scowled.

"She _what_?" Kenobi sputtered. "Why?"

"She did not like such a great invasion of her privacy. The Senator feels that Artoo and his motion sensors are enough of a defense." Vader growled with a trace of bitterness.

"I don't like this. It's not safe." Kenobi protested.

"I don't like it either, but she insisted." Vader sighed. "But don't worry too much, I can sense everything going on in that room. If anything enters and tries to harm the Senator, I'll know."

"Don't be so overconfident my young _Padawan_." Obi-Wan cautioned.

"Well, if I miss anything, you shouldn't _Master_." Vader smirked. "After all, you are a true Jedi Knight."

Kenobi only snorted in response to that. And then he changed the subject. "What do you think of young Senator Amidala?"

"She's pretty," he admitted, "but foolish and irritating. I will be very glad when this assignment is over."

"Hmph, as will I. There is something about this assignment that bothers me. Something distant, elusive." Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't like it one bit."

Vader crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the thick, expensive carpet beneath his boots. _I don't like it either… And I like hearing about Dooku even less…_

* * *

Outside Padmé's window, a small hovering assassin droid drifted into position. It activated its quiet cutting laser and carved a small, circular hole to which it pressed up a small canister. A pair of Kohun, large centipede-like insects gifted with great stealth and a greater poison, crawled out and onto the floor.

Attracted by the body heat of the sleeping Senator, they scuttled over to, and up, her bed. One of them made enough of a disturbance in its hunt to trip the Astromech's sensors and Artoo briefly activated to seek out whatever it was. The Kohun stilled until Artoo passed the alert off as a glitch and deactivated again.

Feeling safe, the insect assassins slunk up her bed-sheets and wriggled towards her head. The carbon dioxide she exhaled with each breath drew them like magnets. The pulsing heat of her jugular awakened their ceaseless hunger. This creature was large and they would feed well…

* * *

Vader tensed suddenly as an icy chill of warning prickled the back of his neck. His eyes immediately flew to the Senator's door and he sharpened his senses, seeking the cause for alarm. He did not like what he detected.

"I feel it too," Obi-Wan murmured.

They moved as one, bursting through the door. Vader leapt up on Padmé's bed and snapped on his blue-bladed Jedi lightsaber, slashing through the pair of venomous Kohun like a hot knife through butter. The Senator lurched upright in bed, shocked and dazed with sleep. A whirring by the window drew Vader's attention and he turned just in time to see Obi-Wan crash through the window to grab a hold of a small assassin droid as it streaked away towards its owner.

"Stay here," Vader snapped, dashing away as her attendants rushed into the run to see what all the ruckus was about.

He really didn't think about his actions as he rushed to aid Obi-Wan. His own worries about his own safety were totally forgotten. While Obi-Wan Kenobi was a great warrior, skilled in the art of battle and the dance of the saber, he got himself into a great deal of trouble. So far, Vader had saved the Jedi's skin twice, once from a terrorist seeking to destroy peace talks on some distant world, and once when the Knight was knocked out cold in the middle of a nest of Gundarks.

_Sometimes I wonder if it's his job to save me, or my job to save him! _Vader sighed exasperatedly as he scuttled through a parking lot in search of a good speeder to borrow. _Hang on **Master**, I'm coming to save you…**again**._ He spied a sporty yellowish speeder, hopped in, hot-wired it, and was off into the endless rivers of Coruscant traffic, in search of his wayward 'Master'.


	14. 13: Crazy Chase on Coruscant

**Chapter 13**  
_Crazy Chase on Coruscant_

Obi-Wan clung to the tiny droid with both hands as he dangled helplessly beneath it. The mechanical assassin darted and wove through traffic as it sought to lose its clingy pursuer and make it back to its owner. Obi-Wan squinted against the glaring lights of glowing billboards and traffic signals as he struggled not to fall to his death. He was starting to regret his rash leap through the window.

He yelped when the droid suddenly careened against a building and knocked free one of his hands. Obi-Wan had to shift hands as the droid aimed for a different wall to try and get him off. The Jedi clenched his teeth and held on. He had no other choice, for if he let go, he would fall to his death.

And then things got even worse. There was a loud bang and the small spherical assassin droid disintegrated in mid-air. In the next fraction of a second, Obi-Wan found himself falling downwards into the canyon-like streets of Coruscant.

_Oh blast it all!_

_

* * *

_

Vader wove through traffic, his focus fixed on the brilliant presence of Knight Kenobi. Up ahead he finally spied the Jedi, still hanging on for dear life beneath the tiny assassin droid. Rolling his eyes at the older man's foolishness, he leaned on the accelerator and zipped forward to assist him. And then the droid exploded and Obi-Wan fell.

Cursing loudly and explicitly in Huttese, Vader practically stood on the accelerator and sent the open-top speeder into an almost vertical dive. He carefully lined the speeder up with the falling Jedi and matched the speeds. With his eyes watching the traffic speed past as he dove, he trained his Force-senses on Obi-Wan. The instant he felt that the older man climb into the seat next to him, he pulled up, swiftly climbing back up to the level where Obi-Wan had fallen.

"How nice of you to drop in," Vader smirked.

"While I'm glad for the lift," Obi-Wan panted, "what took you so long?"

"Oh, you know Master. I couldn't find a speeder that I liked." Vader shrugged.

"There, follow that speeder." Kenobi pointed out a sleek yellow speeder with prong-like structures on the front and back.

Vader obligingly turned to follow the indicated speeder. "One that was the right color, with the right speed capabilities, and an open cockpit…" He continued calmly stating why he was late as if Obi-Wan hadn't said anything.

"Alright, alright, I get the picture!" Obi-Wan snapped, stressed by his near death experience.

Vader shut up and put all his energies into steering as the target speeder flew more and more erratically in an attempt to lose them. He snorted derisively at the foolish suspect, did he really think he could lose a pair of Jedi? The fleeing speeder dove and Vader followed. Obi-Wan didn't seem to like this dive.

"Pull up," Kenobi hissed as they appeared to be lined up on a collision course with a massive trash barge, "pull up!"

Vader couldn't help but laugh at the Jedi's panic. He knew exactly what he was doing. Compared to pod racing, this was nothing, absolutely nothing. A few seconds from impact, he shifted direction and easily avoiding the lumbering barge with a few meters space to spare.

"Don't do that!" Kenobi gasped, looking pale and mildly ill.

"Sorry Master," Vader snickered. "I forgot that you don't like flying."

"I don't mind flying," Kenobi panted, "but that was suicide!"

"That was nothing," Vader scoffed as the chase entered an industrial district.

The fleeing speeder darted dangerously close to flame-spewing smokestacks and Vader followed close behind. It was hot and uncomfortable and the flames threatened to burn them, but Vader was an excellent pilot and no harm came to them. And then, as the target speeder slipped between some power couplings, the electrical towers overloaded and purple lightning arced between the couplings. There was no time to avoid it, if he did he could lose sight of his quarry, so he blasted right through.

"N-never fly t-t-through l-live p-power coup-plings!" Obi-Wan gasped, twitching from the shock.

Vader didn't answer. He was too busy keeping his trembling arms from throwing off his steering. That hadn't felt nice at all and he hoped he wouldn't have to do that again.

The assassin's speeder kept right on running. It came close to causing several accidents and starting racing through tight tunnels at dangerous velocities. Vader bit his lip and made up his mind. This chase wasn't working. Either their target would end up dead, or they would. Neither was an acceptable outcome. Something had to be done.

When the speeder ducked into yet another tunnel, Vader turned away and raced around the buildings for the other end of the tunnel. He was going to catch this assassin himself and then hopefully this assignment would be over. And he wouldn't have to worry about encountering the Count…

"Where are you going?" Obi-Wan asked. "He went that way!"

"This pursuit isn't working Obi-Wan. Either he's going to die, or we'll get caught up in a crash." Vader replied calmly. "This chase has to stop. And this is a shortcut… I think."

"You _think_?" Obi-Wan repeated incredulously.

Vader shrugged and put the speeder into hover high above the exit tunnel. He peered over the edge of the speeder and watched for the distinctive target speeder to emerge. Obi-Wan did the same. When the time he guessed it would take the speeder to appear came and went, he winced. Had he picked the wrong exit tunnel?

"Well, you've lost him." Obi-Wan grumbled.

"I'm deeply sorry _Master_." Vader sighed as he kept watching for the speeder.

"Next time you find a shortcut, make sure it works before you take it!" Kenobi cautioned. "You have to remember that there are consequences–"

"If you'll excuse me," Vader interrupted, spying the speeder and leaping from his own vehicle, free-falling towards his target.

Vader supposed that Obi-Wan said something to him, but the roaring wind in his ears deafened him to whatever it was. Lights and shapes blurred around him as his focus narrowed onto his target. In a few short seconds, he hit the speeder, landing right on the bubble cockpit.

The driver glanced up at him, shocked. The assassin appeared to be a female human, but then the face shifted briefly into something clearly alien. And then the she regained her wits and did her best to shake him off. She almost succeeded.

Vader very nearly slipped off the back of the speeder. He clung desperately to a back prong of the vehicle and flopped around like a rag doll as the speeder darted around. Clenching his teeth, he struggled to get back on top of the cockpit.

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_ He asked himself as he crawled towards the driver. _This is all Obi-Wan's fault! If he hadn't been stupid and jumped through the window, I wouldn't be out here!_ Vader scowled as he struggled to get his slightly numb, tingly fingers to obey his commands. _Damn power couplings._ He cursed. _Yeah, this is all Obi-Wan's fault! He's a terrible Jedi role model, jumping out of windows like a crazy man…_

He perched on top of the cockpit and pulled out his lightsaber. Activating the blue blade, he stabbed it into the cockpit and started cutting a hole. The driver jerked the controls and the turbulence knocked his weapon from his numb grasp, sending the hilt spinning off behind him. Mentally cursing, He leaned through the small hole and reached for the controls. The assassin pulled out a blaster pistol and tried to shoot him, but he grabbed her wrist and they wrestled.

A stray shot fried the control panel and the cockpit quickly filled with smoke. Now out of control, the speeder took a nose-dive, lurching towards a low level surface street deep in the bowels of Coruscant. When the speeder hit the ground, Vader was thrown free and rolled for several meters until he hit a wall. Gasping in pain, he staggered to his feet and hobbled towards the burning speeder, wondering if the driver had survived.

She had. He saw her scramble free, catch sight of him, and take off down the street. Spitting a few choice words, Vader gave chase, now on foot. He plowed through the crowded streets, wriggling past drug-dealers and prostitutes as he struggled to keep sight of his quarry. She darted into a night club and he hurried to follow.

* * *

"What are you doing!" Obi-Wan shouted after Vader as the young man bailed out of the speeder and free-fell through the streets of Coruscant. 

He sat there, astonished, until he saw the young man collide and cling to the speeder they'd been looking for. Obi-Wan pulled himself back together quickly and hopped into the driver's seat to continue the pursuit. Now Vader wasn't chasing down Obi-Wan, it was Obi-Wan chasing after Vader.

Obi-Wan quickly got into the same lane as the fleeing speeder, but since he loathed breaking traffic laws, he was unable to properly close the gap between the two vehicles. Sometime during the chase and scuffle, Vader's lightsaber went flying, and Obi-Wan swerved slightly to catching the spinning hilt. Sighing at the boy's carelessness concerning his weapon, he made a note to lecture him about it later.

And then the assassin's speeder began to vent smoke and lose altitude. Obi-Wan uneasily followed it as it careened down into the lower levels of Coruscant. A flash of worry struck him when the speeder crashed into the street and burst into flames. He hurriedly parked the speeder Vader had borrowed, grabbed Vader's lightsaber, and scrambled to the scene of the crash.

Just as he reached the flaming wreck, he spotted Vader dashing off into the crowd. Inwardly cursing, he gave chase, struggling to keep his charge in sight. When Vader reached the entrance to a nightclub, he put on a burst of speed and managed to catch the boy's shoulder.

Vader spun on him with a wild look in his eyes, before recognizing him and relaxing. "She went into the club Obi-Wan." He explained and tried to rush in.

"Calm down," Obi-Wan chided him. "Think about this. No one goes into a building to run. They go inside to hide."

"Yes, _Master_." Vader nodded, shifting impatiently.

"Now," Obi-Wan sighed, showing Vader his lightsaber, "try not to lose this again."

"Sorry Obi-Wan," Vader sighed, reaching for the weapon, but Obi-Wan didn't let him have it just yet.

"A Jedi's lightsaber is the most important possession one is allowed. It is meant to be a reflection of the inner self, it is not something to be let go of lightly." Obi-Wan scolded.

"Yes _Master_, I'm sorry." Vader replied, not seeming all that sorry about it.

"Now, let's go inside and find this assassin." Obi-Wan sighed, relinquishing Vader's lightsaber.

"Obi-Wan," Vader leaned over into and whispered into Obi-Wan's ear. "I think the assassin is a she, and _she_ is a changeling."

"In that case," Obi-Wan murmured back as they slipped into the club crowd, "be extra careful. Now go out and find her." He ordered, heading over to the bar.

"Where are you going Obi-Wan?" Vader asked, confused.

"For a drink," Obi-Wan replied mysteriously.

And that's just what he did. He took an open seat at the bar and ordered a small glass of Corellian brandy. As he nursed his drink and scanned the club crowd through the Force, a foolish alien drug-dealer turned to him.

"Wanna buy some death-sticks?" The dealer asked.

"You don't want to sell me death-sticks." Obi-Wan assured him with a small hand gesture.

"I don't want to sell you death-sticks." The dealer agreed, taking a sip from his own drink.

"You want to go home and re-think your life." Obi-Wan decided, waving his hand again.

"I want to go home and re-think my life." The dealer agreed and left the bar to do as he was told.

With the distraction gone, Obi-Wan returned to searching for the changeling assassin. Not long after the drug-dealer was gone, he sensed the assassin approach. She foolishly was going to try and sneak up on him and shoot him in the back. It might work on some ordinary man, but he was a Jedi. When she drew close enough, he sprang into action.

In a split second he whirled around, snapped on his lightsaber, and took off her gun arm just beneath her elbow. Stunned and disarmed, she slumped to the floor and did not struggle as he took her into custody. Vader was at his side in an instant and helped him drag her outside to rest on the curb.

"Now, do you know who you were trying to kill?" Obi-Wan demanded, leaning lightly into the Force to improve her cooperation.

"Yeah…the Senator of…Naboo." She wheezed.

"Who hired you?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"What do you care, Jedi?" She sneered.

"Just answer the question." Vader growled, glaring at her threateningly.

"I was hired by a bounty hunter," she admitted, looking away from Vader's fierce gaze.

"Who?" Obi-Wan asked.

"J–" She'd barely started to answer when she jerked, went into convulsions, lost control over her shifting, and then went still in death.

Obi-Wan frowned, scanning the area for this new assassin, but was unable to see anyone. Running his fingers over the dead changeling's exposed neck, he pulled free a small, triangular dart. It had probably been poisoned.

"Well, that went well." Obi-Wan snorted, pocketing the dart and placing a call to the authorities about the body of the changeling. "Now, let's get back to the Senator and try to get some rest. We report to the Council in the morning."

"Yes, Master." Vader agreed, and they went back to the speeder and returned to Padmé Amidala's apartment building.


	15. 14: Fleeing Coruscant

**Chapter 14**  
_Fleeing Coruscant_

Vader was not happy. Not happy at all. Not that he was usually happy. Happiness, real happiness, had always been a rarity in his life. But at the moment he was as far from being happy as one could be without being enraged beyond measure or mired in endless grief. But, in the language of understatement, which seemed to be the native tongue of the Jedi Order, he was not pleased.

The Jedi Council was a bunch of idiots. While he was gratefully (well, sort of) for their agreement to hide him and keep him safe, he was definitely not grateful for this most recent decision of theirs. They were sending Obi-Wan off on some wild Bantha chase while he was to go with the Senator to Naboo and protect her…alone.

Obi-Wan was supposed to stay with him and protect _him_. Especially now that Count Dooku seemed to be coming out of the shadows. Obi-Wan was supposed to do all the work on this mission, he was supposed to be the main babysitter for the Senator. Obi-Wan was the Jedi, not him.

But Obi-Wan was ever obedient to the Council's wishes and so he agreed with them. He would go off on his own and discover who wanted the kill Senator Amidala and deal with them. And Vader would take over Obi-Wan's job. He didn't care that Naboo security would be doing the majority of the work. He would still be alone without Obi-Wan for help and protection.

"I do not like this idea of hiding." Amidala snapped as she and Dormé worked to pack a good part of her extensive wardrobe into suitcases. "I would much rather stay here; the vote on the Military Creation Act is only a few days away!" She protested.

"Would you be more amenable to going into hiding after the vote, my Lady?' Dormé asked.

"No," Amidala admitted. "Though I would prefer to cast the vote myself instead of leaving the responsibility to Jar Jar."

"He'll do fine. As you said, the vote is only a few days away so there's no way he can forget which way to vote on the issue." Dormé soothed.

"I'm sure he will," Amidala agreed, "but I'll still worry."

"Please don't, worrying won't help anyone, least of all yourself." Dormé sighed. "Just do us all a favor and try to relax, think of it as a vacation if you like. Captain Typho and I will look after Jar Jar. Everything will be fine."

"Alright, I'll try." Amidala smiled weakly. "Hopefully this 'vacation' won't turn out to be a very long one."

"Yes, hopefully Master Kenobi will have everything taken care of soon." Dormé agreed. "We'll miss you," she added softly.

"And I'll miss you all too." Amidala sighed sadly.

Vader struggled not to groan, sigh, and roll his eyes. _Girls…_

"Now, let's get you and your bodyguard into your disguises." Dormé smiled and scampered off into another room to fetch the disguises.

The Senator scowled at the mention of disguises (or was it the mention of him as her bodyguard?) and crossed her arms angrily over her chest. Her pose reminded him of a spoiled, sulking brat. Vader couldn't say that he was particularly enthused at the idea of disguises (seeing as he wore one every single day anyway) but it could be worse.

Dormé returned with two bundles in her arms. One she handed to the Senator, the other she gave to him. The Handmaiden then escorted the Senator into the refresher, leaving Vader to change on his own. Sighing he quickly swapped clothes, stuffing his Jedi robes into his old backpack that still held his tools, though his old clothes and Sith lightsaber were no longer in there. He kept his Force senses trained lightly on the women to make sure they didn't unexpectedly reappear and catch him less than fully clothed.

Hefting his backpack over one shoulder after slipping his saber into an outer pocket for easy access, he turned to quickly study his reflection in the Senator's floor-length mirror. The clothes weren't half-bad though they did bear some resemblance to his Jedi robes. His Padawan braid probably didn't help his disguise much either. With a shrug, he sat on the Senator's windowsill and waited for her to come back.

Her clothes weren't all that bad either; he noticed when she stiffly strode back into the room. Sure she had a dorky looking headdress thing, but the dress was decent enough. She probably thought she looked like a scruffy peasant. But that was part of the disguise. They were supposed to be refugees bound for Naboo, not a Senator and Jedi going into hiding.

"There, I can hardly recognize you two." Dormé smiled encouragingly.

"Thank you for your help Dormé." Amidala replied, and then glanced at her wall chronometer. "It's almost time, we should leave."

"Of course, my Lady." Dormé nodded and picked up one of the Senator's two suitcases.

"Come along Artoo," the Senator called as she picked the other suitcase.

Scowling slightly, Vader settled his backpack more securely before following. _Why do women insist on bringing so much crap with them everywhere they go?_ He wondered sourly as he trudged along behind the two women and Astrodroid. They all piled into a speeder piloted by Captain Typho and headed to the meeting place where they would part ways.

* * *

Vader slouched as he stood waiting beside Obi-Wan as the Senator said her final goodbyes to her staff. Obi-Wan had already assured him that he would do his best to resolve things quickly and warned him not to do anything without first consulting the Council. Vader readily agreed, not that he was planning on doing anything at all risky on this assignment that would require speaking with the Council.

After a good deal of useless chatting and a few unnecessary tears, Amidala, Dormé, and Typho finally said goodbye. Amidala strained slightly under her suitcase and staggered towards the airbus that would take them to the spaceport and their refugee transport to Naboo. Sighing, Vader lifted her other suitcase and trudged after her. Artoo, it seemed, was coming too, as the astromech rolled into the mostly empty airbus after him.

Once the Senator's luggage was stuffed into the overhead storage, Vader settled into his seat for the half-hour flight to the spaceport. Artoo parked himself next to Vader taking up half of the wide aisle of the airbus and appeared to power down for the ride. The Senator, however, didn't settle down. She fidgeted and squirmed as she sat next to him and he was sorely tempted to snap at her to make her stop. After almost ten minutes, Vader tried conversation as opposed to snapping and smacking to distract her.

"Nervous?" He asked, struggling to be polite.

"No," she lied and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Maybe a little," she very reluctantly admitted.

"Don't be," Vader snorted, "Master Obi-Wan will have this mess sorted out in no time and then you can come back and go on with your life."

Amidala frowned at him, but did her best to relax and be polite in return. "Have you had many solo assignments?" She asked curiously.

"No," he shrugged, "this'll be my first one."

"Your first one?" She all but squeaked, looking mildly horrified.

"Yes, but not to worry." He replied calmly.

"Not to worry?" She repeated incredulously.

"Yes, not to worry, we're perfectly safe." Vader smirked. "We have Artoo with us."

Artoo whistled cheerfully (obviously not fully powered down) flattered that Vader thought he was so important. Amidala wasn't as cheerful. Her unhappy expression clearly told Vader that she thought he was insane. Vader couldn't possibly care less what she thought of him.

_Let her think I'm crazy. If she thinks I'm nuts, she'll leave me alone. And if she leaves me alone, this assignment just might turn out to be bearable…_


	16. 15: Naboo

**Chapter 15**  
_Naboo_

Vader struggled not to stare at his surroundings like some starry-eyed tourist as he followed Senator Amidala through Theed, capital city of Naboo. He managed it, but it wasn't easy. It was like his first visit to the main Jedi Temple, only this time he had a job to do, and so he couldn't afford to goggle at the beautiful city.

The flight here had been totally uneventful. Two and a half days of utter boredom. If their transport had been faster, they could've made it in a day and a half, but refugee ships aren't made for speed, they're made to carry as many people as possible.

The Senator had paced their tiny shared cabin like a caged Nexu when they were alone. When their roommates, a young Human couple looking to make a fresh start on Naboo, were present, she would either chat with them or review something on her holo-reader. She only spoke to Vader when necessary, and Vader was glad for that.

He had spent his time watching the other passengers, tinkering with Artoo when the Senator wasn't looking, and even (to his secret horror) meditating. Over the two and a half day trip, he'd spied three cheating husbands, five thieving children, two fleeing petty criminals; given Artoo five modification upgrades; and meditated for a good quarter of the time he'd been awake. At the end of the voyage, he'd idly wondered if Obi-Wan would be pleased with his good behavior. He hadn't been rude to a single person on the ship and he hadn't let slip a single explicit curse.

Vader almost tripped over his own boots as he followed Senator Amidala around a corner and caught sight of the massive Nabooan Royal Palace. Every building he'd seen so far had been a work of art. The Palace was a masterpiece. If he had the time, he would've stared at it for hours. This was totally different from the type of architecture he was used to seeing on Coruscant.

He managed to recover his wits before Amidala had taken more than a few steps in front of him and lengthened his stride to catch up. Thankfully, she didn't notice his gawking. Artoo did, but said nothing about it. Vader inwardly smiled at the little droid. He'd met one just like it years ago and been most impressed with its versatility. This Artoo was just as cool.

_I love droids._ He mentally grinned as the Senator led him to a side entrance to the Palace. Vader stubbornly fixed his eyes on the back of Amidala's silly headdress so as not to gawk and get lost in the vast, beautiful Nabooan Palace. He could always get a nice long look at it later.

Less than an hour after landing in Theed, they were in the Royal Palace and waiting for their audience with the current ruler of Naboo. Amidala was either very powerful, very popular, or both, because it felt like they'd only waited a few minutes before a Royal Handmaiden summoned them before the Queen. Vader was slightly annoyed, he'd wanted more time to study some tapestries hanging on a nearby wall.

His first impression of the current Nabooan monarch wasn't very favorable. She looked like a freak. Her face was painted white with two red dots, one below each eye in the middle of the cheek, and she had some weird lipstick, the top lip was red and the bottom was white with a red vertical stripe down the middle. Her dark brown (or black, he couldn't really tell) hair was done up in an elaborate style, wrapped around some sort of huge headdress type thing. And her robes were multi-layered, multi-colored, and pretty in an elegant-yet-ridiculous sort of way. Basically, she looked like a fancy clown. It was difficult not to stare or laugh.

"Senator Amidala, We are most glad to see you safe." The Queen greeted in a rather flat-sounding voice.

_She sounds about as dumb as she looks, _Vader noted, keeping his face totally neutral.

"Thank you your Highness, it is good to see you again." Senator Amidala smiled.

Both women approached each other and gave each other that sort of distant fake hug that looked more like they were holding onto each other's arms. Then, with the greeting out of the way, they settled into chairs and got down to business. Vader moved to stand just behind and beside the Senator's chair. The Queen sat on her throne, flanked by two Handmaidens sitting on chairs on either side of her. A few Governors were already present and nodded or called brief greetings to the Senator. And then they began talking, which cued Vader to tune them out and do some meditation and scanning-for-threats instead.

Nothing happened. No explosions, laser fire, brawls, poison darts, or assassins (droid or biological). Nothing bad went down. Nothing interesting or funny was discussed. And Vader was left excessively bored and annoyed. Here he was, playing bodyguard and wasting his time while his own protector was off doing something infinitely more interesting.

Sometime later, the meeting ended. The politicians all rose and said their goodbyes to each other. It was roughly lunchtime so the Governors went out to eat at some restaurant while the Queen and her staff got ready for their own meal within the palace walls. After a final farewell between the two women, Senator Amidala gathered up her bags, droid, and Vader, and they left.

Vader silently shadowed Amidala, mildly curious as to their next destination. The reason for the mild curiosity was that he was hungry and hoped wherever they were going would have some good food. If their next stop didn't, or it took a long time to get there, he would end up even more annoyed than he already was.

A good ten minutes of walking brought them to a residential area near the edge of Theed and a pretty little house. As Amidala and Artoo reached the front gate a pair of young girls exploded out of the house and raced over to greet them. The older one had straight dark hair while the younger had slightly lighter hair that was very curly. The only other thing he noted about them was that they were energetic and rather cute.

"Aunt Padmé! Aunt Padmé!" They both cheered, bouncing around the Senator.

'_Aunt Padmé'? She's an aunt?_ Vader blinked, surprised. _She doesn't look old enough to be an aunt._

"Ryoo! Pooja!" The Senator grinned. "I didn't expect to see you two here!"

"We didn't expect to see _you _here!" The girls giggled.

"Well then, we both got a nice surprise then," Amidala smiled. "Are your parents here too?"

"Dad is working, but Mom's here." The taller girl replied.

"Thank you Ryoo." Amidala nodded and went through the gates, up the steps, and into the house.

Vader wandered after her. Behind him he could hear the girls giggling and squealing over Artoo, who stayed outside, and seemed to be enjoying the attention immensely. Vader snorted softly at the droid's antics. _Artoo is so weird…_

The house, which he guessed belonged to some relatives, was small, but comfortable. While it wasn't nearly as massive or fancy as the Royal Palace, it was beautiful in its own homey sort of way. The walls were covered in family holos and flat images, the furniture was well made, and the overall atmosphere slowly leeched tension from him, allowing him to relax a bit. Nothing bad could happen in a nice little place like this.

Amidala led him into a kitchen where two women were preparing food. The younger one was older looking than the Senator and he guessed that she was Ryoo and Pooja's mother, making her either Amidala's sister, or sister-in-law. The older woman had a good amount of silver threaded in her dark hair and was plenty old enough to be the mother of both the other women in the room. The instant that they noticed their surprise guest; they stopped what they were doing and said their hellos.

"Padmé!" The younger woman cried. "What a nice surprise!"

"Yes, you're just in time for lunch!" The older woman laughed as she embraced the Senator.

"Lunch sounds great, I'm starved!" Amidala declared as she returned the embrace, and then went to hug the sister (sister-in-law?). "Hi Mom, hi Sola."

"I thought you were going to be on Coruscant for at least another month." The mother smiled, but Vader could clearly sense a good deal of underlying concern.

"Is something going on?" Sola asked, not hiding her worry as well as her mother (mother-in-law?).

"Nothing is going on," Amidala sighed, deeply annoyed. "The Chancellor and my security staff are just overreacting."

Vader looked sharply over at her. '_Overreacting'? An assassin droid dropped two super-poisonous bugs into your bedroom a few nights ago and they almost stung you!_

"What happened to make them overreact?" The mother asked worriedly.

"It's nothing Mom, really. With any luck things will be cleared up soon and I can return and finish up this year's session." Amidala shrugged dismissively.

"Padmé," Sola sighed, looking very unhappy.

"I know you don't want us to worry, but please tell us the truth." The mother pleaded.

"I said that nothing's wrong, I'm perfectly fine." Amidala smiled, trying to be reassuring. "Now, what about lunch?"

Amidala's mother and her sister (sister-in-law? He really needed to ask which…) looked concerned and displeased at the lack of an answer, but they dropped the subject and picked up a new one…

"Who's this?" The mother asked, noticing Vader for the first time.

"This is a Jedi Padawan that the Chancellor insisted follow me around 'for my own good'." Amidala snorted in obvious annoyance. "He goes simply by Vader."

"A Jedi?" Sola murmured, sounding both concerned and oddly intrigued. Vader felt uneasy at the woman's curious, appraising gaze. "Has he come for lunch too?"

"I guess," Amidala shrugged. "It's always a good idea to feed one's bodyguard."

"Most definitely," Sola agreed.

"Padmé, why don't you fetch your father from the backyard?" The mother suggested. "Once everyone gets to the dining room we can eat."

Amidala smiled cheerfully and ditched her suitcase by the backdoor as she did as she was told. Vader left the bags that he was carrying there as well and waited in the door frame for her and her father to return inside, alert for any danger, however unlikely. _Hurry up Milady; _he grumbled to himself, _I'm starved!_


	17. 16: Meeting With The Family

**Chapter 16**  
_Meeting With the Family_

Vader stood stiff with discomfort out in the back garden. The flowers were pretty and smelled quite nice, but he couldn't really enjoy them all that much at the moment. Right now, he was being subtly grilled by the Senator's father.

Well, maybe not grilled, or even interrogated, but definitely questioned. And the day had been going so well before. They'd gotten off the crowded transport and arrived on beautiful Naboo, visited the Royal Palace, met the Queen, and had a great lunch. Then somehow he'd been pulled away from his charge to take a walk with her father, and now the man was asking questions.

"I know Padmé is down-playing the seriousness of the situation so that we don't worry…but please, tell me, how bad is it really?" The father, introduced as Ruwee, asked.

"Well, it's certainly not 'nothing' as she claims." Vader replied evasively. He didn't want to piss the Senator off, but he didn't want to lie to her family either. They were nice people and he didn't want to mislead them, not to mention that it was against the Jedi Code. At Ruwee's expectant look, Vader reluctantly continued.

"When she returned to Coruscant, a bomb planted on her landing pad destroyed her ship and killed some security personnel and Handmaidens. This prompted the Chancellor to ask the Jedi Council to put her under the Order's protection. My Master and I were assigned to augment her security and we managed to ward off a second attempt on her life. The Council then decided to send my Master to investigate the assassination attempts and send the Senator and I here to lay low until my Master resolves things." Vader explained and then prayed that Amidala wouldn't kill him later for this.

"I see," Ruwee sighed worriedly. The older silver-haired man appeared to study some flowering bush before speaking again. "I've noticed that you and my daughter don't seem to be on the best of terms."

"We aren't," Vader shrugged stiffly. "Bad first impressions combined with poor moods, mainly. My Master's poor opinion of politicians has probably rubbed off on me." He added lamely.

"Who is your master?" Ruwee inquired curiously.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." Vader answered, hoping that the questions would end soon.

"Really?" Ruwee seemed startled at the reply. "He's your Master?"

"Yes," Vader nodded, confused at the awe he was sensing from the older man.

Ruwee looked Vader over thoughtfully, before smiling. "Well with your master on the case I'm sure this mess will be over with quickly. And I'm sure you'll do a fine job looking after my daughter, whether she thinks she needs your help or not."

Vader was stunned, flattered, and confused all at once, and simply settled on saying: "um, thanks."

And then, to his great relief, the uncomfortable questions stopped, and Ruwee rambled on about his daughter. All Vader had to do was listen and nod at the appropriate points. Now he could enjoy the beautiful garden. And he did.

* * *

Padmé studiously ignored the piercing gaze of her older sister as she helped clean the dishes. Instead of acknowledging her sister, she stared out the kitchen window at her father and Vader as they meandered through the garden. At first things had appeared tense between them, but now her father looked like he'd taken a shine to the frustrating Jedi Padawan.

"So you have a Jedi as a bodyguard." Sola commented.

"He's only a Padawan Learner." Padmé corrected, giving a drinking glass an extra thorough scrub.

"Still, a Jedi," Sola mused. "A _cute_ Jedi."

"Stop it," Padmé interrupted her sister before she could really get going.

"Stop what? I only pointed out that he's cute." Sola replied innocently.

"I know what you're trying to do, so stop. It couldn't work out anyway; it's against their Code to get romantically involved with anyone." Padmé informed her sister. "And I don't like him."

"Why not? He looks nice enough." Sola wondered.

"Appearances can be deceiving." Padmé reminded her older sibling. "There's something about him I don't like. I feel like he's hiding something, and I just can't bring myself to trust him, let alone like him."

"Hiding something from you? Why would a Jedi do that?" Sola frowned.

"That's a very good question." Padmé sighed. "Though there is one thing that I'd really like to know that has nothing to do with him."

"Oh, and what is that little sister?" Sola inquired.

"Who wants me off Coruscant so much that they go to all the trouble that they did. It's been driving me crazy!" Padmé growled.

"I'd like to know the answer to that too, Padmé. Because then I'd track them down and give them a piece of my mind. I'm the only one allowed to pick on you." Sola acted all indignant, but Padmé could tell that her big sister was truly upset.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, Knight Kenobi is looking into things for me." Padmé replied with only partly forced optimism.

"Thank goodness for that." Sola smiled, though there were traces of tears in her eyes.

Padmé smiled weakly back at her sister and they continued cleaning the dishes in silence.

* * *

Obi-Wan peered through the cockpit view-screen of his Jedi Starfighter as he dropped out of the craggy blue mist of hyperspace. Before him hung a stormy looking planet that, according to the Jedi Archives, shouldn't exist. In fact, this entire star system shouldn't exist. And the reason that it supposedly didn't exist was a disturbing mystery.

First the analysis droids had been unable to tell him anything about the poison dart he'd pulled from the dead Changeling bounty hunter. So he'd gone to his old friend Dexster Jettster the Besalisk. After a quick bite to eat at Dex's Diner, his friend's wonderful little restaurant hidden in Coruscant's mid-level district of Coco Town. Dex had had many careers over his long life and seen many places and things. He'd known what the dart was and where it came from. With directions and the name of a planet, he'd gone to the Archives to get the coordinates and information he'd need.

And then he'd really run into trouble. He'd faithfully followed Dex's instructions, but found an empty void. His study of the star charts showed that all the surrounding stars acted like there was a star there, but it did not appear where it should be. Jedi Master Jocasta Nu, the head Archivist, had come over to assist him and assured him that if it wasn't on their charts, then it must not exist. Obi-Wan trusted Dex; he knew the Besalisk would never lie to him or lead him astray. So, troubled by his conflicting information, he'd sought the wisest master he knew for council.

Master Yoda had been in the middle of teaching a class of Initiates, Jedi younglings not yet old enough to be chosen as Padawans. He'd paused the lesson, a little saber training, to see what Obi-Wan had needed. Obi-Wan presented his little problem and the aged Jedi Master had, in turn, passed it on to the class. And it took the simple, uncluttered mind of a child to find the answer. The reason why the planet he sought was not in the Archives was that someone had erased all data pertaining to it.

Only a Jedi could gain access to the Temple Archives. Only a Master could alter the data the massive library held. Who in the Jedi Order would do such a thing as drastic as erase an entire star system? Why? There were many questions and no answers.

Obi-Wan sighed, releasing his unease into the calm river of the Force. "There it is Arfour," he murmured to his Astromech droid, "the planet of Kamino. Just where it should be." He studied the cloudy atmosphere of the mysterious world before locking onto the signal of a large city. "Here we go!"


	18. 17: Naberrie

**Chapter 17**  
_Naberrie_

Vader leaned up against the gate to Amidala's home and waited rather impatiently, a pair of her suitcases resting by his feet and Artoo a few feet outside the gate, waiting in the street. She'd told him that they'd be leaving to go to some place called Varykino until the Council cleared her to return to Coruscant. But he'd been waiting for her to finish saying goodbye to her family for almost fifteen minutes now and he was getting…antsy.

"Now Padmé, don't hesitate to call us if you need anything!" Her mother called after her as the Senator _finally_ started down the steps towards the gate.

"Yes mother," Amidala sighed, rolling her eyes theatrically.

"Or just call us to call us! We never hear enough from you anymore." Sola complained.

"Sola Naberrie-Janren, stop whining!" Amidala called over her shoulder.

Vader stiffened. _Naberrie? The same as Padmé Naberrie?_

"Padmé Amidala Naberrie, I am not whining! Now go off and have a nice vacation with your cute Jedi at the Queen's expense!" Sola laughed.

Vader couldn't help but stare. _Padmé Amidala _Naberrie_! What? Could it…be?_

"Humph!" Amidala – Padmé? – snorted derisively towards her sister. "Let's go," she ordered mockingly, snagging Vader by the arm and dragging him along and effectively breaking him out of his brief daze.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He grumbled, pulling free of her grasp to pick up her bags before following her and Artoo.

As he trudged along behind the Senator he couldn't help but think that things had gotten a great deal more complicated. Now he really wasn't sure what to think or do. He cursed Obi-Wan for leaving him alone and getting the good job. Playing detective and chasing bounty hunters sounded a lot more appealing that hanging around a woman that it now turned out he probably knew from…from before, and trying to figure out…things.

_At least she doesn't recognize me._ He thought with deep relief. _It's a good thing that I'm not three-and-a-half-feet tall and cute anymore, otherwise I'd be screwed. Though…this isn't all that much better._

The Senator led him to some docks at the riverside. There they hopped into a waiting gondola that Vader had to very carefully load and help the clumsy Artoo into it. Thankfully, he managed to fit everything without capsizing the little boat. Once he and the Senator were seated, the gondola captain shoved off and they were on their way to this mysterious Varykino place.

_If…if she really is the same as Handmaiden Padmé Naberrie, then…then…? And if she is, then Artoo…was Artoo the same as the one I met on Tatooine? What if she finds out who I am? What if she recognizes me? Will she tell on me? Would she keep my secret? And what would she think of me if she found out that…I've touched on the Dark Side?_

He worried on those and many other questions all the way to Varykino…

* * *

Padmé leaned against the balcony railing that faced out onto the lake of the Royal Varykino estate. It was mid-summer and the weather was absolutely gorgeous. The air was warm and fresh, the sun shone brightly with only a few wispy clouds strewn across the deep blue sky, and the water sparkled a clear blue. The lake and the small island that sat near the middle of it seemed to call her name, just like it did in her youth. Perhaps later she'd go for a nice swim.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied her near-constant shadow, the mysterious Jedi Padawan known only as Vader. He was just as frustrating and infuriating as he was intriguing. Sola had called him cute and Padmé secretly agreed. But he was several years younger than her and a Jedi. Despite her sister's silly suggestions to 'go for him', it would never work, even if she liked him.

He was rude, evasive, and a jerk. She'd met Nemoidians that were more pleasant to be around than him. His eyes held a certain coldness that made her want to shiver if she looked too closely at them. She was almost afraid of him, he felt…dangerous.

But Jedi weren't dangerous; at least, not dangerous to their friends and allies. To their enemies, they _are_ dangerous. So, since it was his job to keep her safe, she should be safe. She _should_ be. She should _feel_ safe. She didn't.

And now, things seemed to have changed. Something was going on with her Jedi protector. The entire boat ride to the Varykino estate had been silent. He hadn't said a word, hadn't glanced at her once, his expression was utterly blank. She had no idea what was going on in that head of his. And somehow, that bothered her more than the odd feeling of danger he gave off to her.

All of that combined with the reason for her cowardly hiding was enough to drive her mad. The hours of wondering who wanted to kill her… The days trapped aboard the refugee transport… The discomfort of lying – no, being less than truthful – to her parents, her sister… All of that made her want to scream.

The unnerving silence wasn't helping her state of mind much either.

"You've been awfully quiet today," she observed, turning abruptly to Vader.

He jumped and said something deeply intelligent, something along the lines of: "huh? Wha?"

"I said, 'you've been awfully quiet today'." Padmé patiently repeated, her gaze fixed on Vader's startled face.

"I've…been thinking." He muttered evasively, twisting around to stare out at the lake and conveniently avoid looking her in the eye.

"About what?" Padmé inquired curiously.

"Nothing important," he shrugged.

"'Nothing important'?" Padmé echoed.

"Yes, that's what I said," he replied calmly. It seemed his initial surprise had totally worn off now and he was back to his calm, controlled self.

"If it's really so inconsequential, why don't you tell me about it?" Padmé suggested helpfully.

"Because I don't want to." He answered a tad sharply. Before she could press more, he changed the subject. "This is the nicest planet I've ever visited."

"You're jumping subjects on me." Padmé frowned.

"I know," he smirked slightly. "Is it always so nice out here?"

"During the summer, yes." She replied. "But when winter comes, this region tends to lie dormant under a foot or two of snow."

"Hmm…" Vader mumbled thoughtfully. "That's it."

"What's it?" Padmé asked raising an eyebrow.

"I've just realized something." He informed her, his expression totally unreadable.

"And what is that?" She prompted.

"That I am envious of you. You get to live on such a nice world while I get stuck with Coruscant, a planet covered in endless layers of buildings." He said this with complete seriousness and sincerity.

Padmé could barely restrain herself from gaping at him. "Oh."

Suddenly he smirked. "Surprised?"

"You are a very strange Jedi, Vader." She muttered and brushed past him as she strode into the house.

"I know," he replied softly, his tone deeply amused.

He didn't follow her in. And she was glad. Vader was creepy and she didn't want to be anywhere near him unless she had to be.


	19. 18: Varykino and Visions

**Chapter 18**  
_Varykino and Visions_

Vader dozed in the warm sunshine, not really asleep, but not totally awake either. It was almost like being in meditation, only he hadn't consciously sought out the calm, rather empty state of mind that the mental exercise usually brought. It just sort came. And, instead of being bored to death by it, smothered by the inactivity, tense with rigid focus, he actually found himself enjoying it. Kind of like how Obi-Wan seemed to like it so much.

He could feel the Force flow around and through him. Light and pure and calm. It was difficult remembering anytime in his life where he'd felt so much at peace. Maybe when he'd been little and lived with his mother, before he could fully understand how different the life of a slave was from that of a normal person, or the times when he simply hadn't cared. It felt really nice.

The fear that haunted him constantly, lurking in the shadows of his thoughts and nightmares, seemed…distant somehow. The Count, his boogeyman, no longer seemed all that threatening or near. Agents of the Dark Side, the allies of the Sith, suddenly lacked the potency he once imagined they had. He felt safe.

And mildly guilty. He should've felt safe like this with Obi-Wan, his 'Master'. He'd chosen the man himself as a protector, a man who would drive his nightmares away, shield him from his fears, and burn back the Darkness with his Light. Why couldn't Obi-Wan bring him this kind peace?

…Perhaps he wasn't being fair. Knight Kenobi did the best he could. The Knight was always vigilant. He was a skilled fighter and a good teacher. Obi-Wan taught his charge the skills of a Jedi so that if he failed Vader would be able to defend himself. There was no reason to blame Obi-Wan for his lack of peace.

His current location probably was the biggest factor is his greatly improved state-of-mind. Naboo was a beautiful world, more wonderful than his Mom's stories of Dantilla, or any other planet he'd ever heard of. It was better than Tatooine, better than any world he'd ever lived on with the Count, and better than any world he'd yet visited in Obi-Wan's company. Coming here was like suddenly finding heaven after living millennia in purgatory.

"Are you asleep?" Padmé asked, half-curious half-annoyed.

"Nope," Vader replied, keeping his eyes closed.

Padmé let out a frustrated sigh, but said nothing further. Vader could sense her frustration very clearly, along with deep concern, worry, and a hint of fear. Slowly, he cracked open one eye and regarded the beautiful Senator.

She sat stiffly on the blanket spread over the flowery field where they had had a picnic. Her back was almost painfully straight and her hands were knotted up in a cloth napkin she'd been playing with. It was clear that she wasn't paying attention to the beautiful surroundings as her deep brown eyes were distant, unfocused. Her mind was trapped in her troubles and worries. She seemed almost physically incapable of relaxing.

The outdoor lunch had been her idea; she claimed a need for fresh air. She'd probably also wanted some privacy too, but he couldn't let her have it, or at least as much as she wanted. Even all the way out here, there was the possibility of danger to her. And even if he _did_ leave her be the way she wished to be, he doubted it would bring her the calm she was clearly lacking.

Vader chewed his lip anxiously. He was torn about what he should do. Should he let himself get closer to her? Should he try to be her friend? Or should he keep his distance, remain her unfriendly prison guard and leave her to stew alone? If he took the risk and dropped his rude, nasty act, would he be able to keep his true identity hidden from her? Should he?

The previous day, especially after the boat ride when they'd first arrived at Varykino, had been awkward. Well, awkward for him at least. The realization that he knew her, that she was the Padmé he knew and admired as a child, had knocked him off balance for pretty much the rest of the day. It had been very uncomfortable for him to go on like nothing had changed, when in reality everything had changed. He saw her unhappiness, her worry, and ached to help her.

A lifetime ago, when he'd first seen her, he'd mistaken her for one of the mythical angels he'd heard space pilots discuss over drinks. He'd first been smitten by her beauty, her grace, and the odd aura of authority she gave off to his undeveloped Force senses. And then, when he'd spoken with her, spent tine with her, he was struck by her kindness and caring. She hadn't cared that he was a slave, a lowly beast of burden. After her initial shock over his social status, she treated him just as she would treat any free boy. And he had adored her for it.

"Stop watching me," she snapped, finally noticing that he was still staring at her out of his one open eye.

"Sorry Milady," he murmured politely, though he didn't look away.

Padmé turned and glared down at him. "Just what do you find so fascinating about me that you keep staring?" She demanded coldly.

"You are…different than I had first thought." Vader replied hesitantly.

"Oh?" She muttered warily.

"Yes, I have found that my initial impressions of you to be…inaccurate and unfair. I allowed my Master's distaste for politics and my own mistrust and biases cloud my judgment." Vader admitted. "…And I apologize."

Padmé stared at him in disbelief, and then suspicion. "I…see."

Vader closed his eye and rolled over to rest on his stomach. When her wary suspicion failed to dissipate any, he decided to speak again. "Being on-edge for so long isn't very healthy." He commented.

"What makes you think that I'm on edge?" Padmé asked tensely.

"Your behavior, your mood, your emotions, all point to you being overly stressed." Vader shrugged casually.

"My emotions?" She almost growled.

"I'm not _trying_ to read them." He muttered defensively. "I simply can't help but sense them when I am near you."

"Well, I would appreciate it if you kept yourself out of my business." Padmé scowled.

"I shall do my best to do so, Milady." Vader shrugged again. "So relax, there's no need to feel stressed."

"My level of stress in none of your concern, Padawan." Padmé growled.

"Oh, but it is. Your welfare _is_ my concern." He corrected gently, sitting up to regard her through half-open eyes.

She glared at him silently for a moment, before turning away to blankly study a herd of grazing Shaaks. Vader sighed quietly and thought over how badly he'd screwed this up. Padmé now despised him, did not trust him, and would most likely make herself sick with worry.

He really wished Obi-Wan was here. Padmé liked him better. And the patient Jedi would probably have more success in convincing her to calm down. Obi-Wan might never smile or show any obvious emotion beyond annoyance and disappointment, but he was kind and understanding. Or at least he did his best to be, his life as a Jedi made it all but impossible to truly understand non-Jedi.

The gentle breeze, that made the grassy field ripple like the surface of the nearby lake, began to stiffen into a true wind. Gusts pulled at the delicate petals of the flowers and some came loose, making the currents of rushing air more visible. Vader noticed that Padmé seemed fascinated by this and an idea took root.

He slipped into a meditative trance more easily than he remembered ever doing it before. Carefully he loosed more flower petals into the wind and then focused on influencing the air currents. He convinced the wind to swirl in unusual patterns and guided the petals within the patterns. It probably looked simple, but it took a lot of concentration to make it look anything other than chaotic. After a while, he lost himself in the currents of the Force and, without realizing it, began to 'far-see'…

_The engines of his racer roared in his ears as the sand flats rushed by him in a blur. He tightened his grip on his steering handles and gritted his teeth in determination. All he had to do was pass Sebulba and hold onto that spot for a few seconds and he'd have first place and the race in the bag…_

_The vibro-blade hummed faintly in his trembling hands. He was almost soaked in sweat and he felt sick to his stomach as he kneeled on the cold stone floor, his shirt laying discarded beside him. The Force seemed to flicker out of his reach and he forced himself to focus. He needed the Force's guidance for this. If he messed up, he'd die. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he swiftly stabbed the blade into his side, just below his ribcage and began to cut…_

_The Light Side of the Force was a real pain in the neck to touch on. You couldn't just reach out and grab it and make it do what you wanted with raw force of will. If you tried, it would just slip away like a puff of air. Frustration clouded his focus and a vicious cycle would begin, culminating in a muffled string of Huttese curses. At a tired, disappointed glance from Obi-Wan, he grumbled and set about trying again, determined to do it this time…_

_Padmé sat by a crackling fireplace in the Varykino estate house. She gazed blankly into the flames, looking worried and sad. He stood nearby, watching her silently. Padmé turned to him and looked as if she was going to say something to him, but Artoo rolled into the room and shrilled for attention. An odd sense of foreboding filled the room…_

_Lightsabers crackled and hummed. Red against two blue. One blue blade was silenced, leaving it a contest between just two. The red swung in graceful fluid arcs, beautiful but swift and deadly. The blue struggled to keep up, to predict where the next blows would come. And then the blue faltered, the red struck, and his arm burned…_

"Are you alright?" Padmé asked, yanking him out of his trance.

He found himself sweating slightly, panting and shaking. It took a moment to get a grip on reality and reply. "Yes…yes, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're shaking." Padmé frowned, concerned and suspicious.

"Yes, I'm sure… Just…just some visions." He shrugged, struggling to regain his Jedi calm.

"What sort of visions?" She asked sharply.

"Mostly just of the past." He swallowed. "There's…nothing that I saw that would help or effect you." He added hesitantly.

"Oh," she sighed, disappointed. Padmé studied the sun's position and climbed to her feet. "It's starting to get a bit late, let's go back."

Vader nodded agreeably and helped her gather up the picnic basket and blanket. She confidently picked her way across the field towards the house, while Vader slunk in her shadow. Absently, he rubbed at a spot just below his right elbow, trying to get rid of the odd tingling feeling that lingered there.

_I've got a really bad feeling…_

The flower petals drifted on the freed winds for a little while longer before drifting down to the ground…forgotten.


	20. 19: Trouble on Geonosis

Normally I don't respond to reviews in the text of the story, that's what the review reply button is for, but a couple of anonymous reviews (that lack e-mail addresses) have caught my attention and I feel compelled to answer to them. _This is a one time only exception!_ If you review anonymously and want a response, leave an e-mail address OR contact me through my author profile page, there's the 'send message' link or my e-mail. Now...

_Queen Padme_ - Glad you like the story! But, um, Shmi _is_ safe already and back with her family and Vader (Anakin) _didn't_ lose it and slaughter the Tusken Raiders (see chapters 8 and 9). As for the arm...I make no promises.

_JediMan _- Again, glad you enjoy the story! I have no problem with criticism unless it's just a mindless flame, those annoy me. But "identical to the movies"? Identical implies that it is a clone (no pun intended here!) of Attack of the Clones and it's not. The main differences so far being: Anakin isn't really a Jedi, he's just pretending to be one after 'being on the Dark Side'; Nobody (except the bad guys) knows who Anakin really is or anything about his history; Anakin _saves _his Mom before the main events of AotC kicks off and _doesn't_ slaughter the sandpeople; and instead of Anakin drooling over Padmé the entire time, he totally misses that fact that it's _her _and they don't really get along at all. The events are _very_ _similar _to what happens in the movie, but they are not _identical. _ The relationships between the characters, their feelings and motivations, are very different. As for there not being enough Dooku, I'm sorry it's taking so long for him to really show up, but he'll be here. So I beg patience.

I thank all my reviewers, both signed and anonymous. I read and appreciate them all. So please, if you like it, review often to tell me about it!

* * *

**Chapter 19**  
_Trouble on Geonosis_

Padmé hunched over her chair and gazed into the dancing flames that crackled in the fireplace. She tried to use the hypnotic motion of the flickering firelight to clear her cluttered mind. But she wasn't having much success.

Behind her and to the side she could feel Vader's eyes on her and struggled not to shudder. His presence had been unsettling when she'd first met him, but it had steadily gotten worse. Now she wondered how long it would take her to snap under his constant stare. The estimated time frame kept shrinking.

She really wished that Obi-Wan would finish up his investigation soon. As soon as he did, she would be free to return to Coruscant and she would be free of Vader's uncomfortable presence. Or, if he ran into a dead end, she hoped he could pass off his detective work to another Jedi so that he could come here and keep her company. She trusted Obi-Wan, but his Padawan she could barely stand.

How did Obi-Wan come to choose such an unpleasant Padawan anyway? She seriously doubted that the Knight would have selected the young man if his only positive attribute was talent with a lightsaber or skill in the mystical Force. He must've had some other positive traits, like a nice personality or a sense of humor. Though if he'd ever had a more pleasant personality, she was having a hard time imagining it; she couldn't even picture him smiling.

Then a thought came to her. What if Obi-Wan wasn't Vader's first master? Perhaps the young man's first teacher had been harsh and driven all the cheer out of him. Or maybe Vader's original master had been killed and the loss of his mentor had soured him. Or perhaps some mission with Obi-Wan had gone wrong and it had scarred him inside.

Padmé almost turned around and asked Vader whether any of those things might be true. But the uncertainty of how he would react stopped her. If she struck a nerve, he might become even more miserable to be around. With all the things already on her mind, she really didn't want to have to deal with him anymore.

And those 'other things on her mind', while distant physically, was all too near in her mind. Someone wanted her dead very badly. Or at least wanted her far away where she had no power, no influence. And their attempts on her life had very nearly succeeded. The first time Cordé, Versé, and some of her security staff had paid the ultimate price. The second time Obi-Wan and Vader had risked their lives only to discover that there were bigger forces at work than originally thought.

While she put up a stubborn, defiant front in the face of these threats, she was deeply shaken inside. Friends of hers and trusted employees had died for her, and it left her feeling sick. And now her friend Obi-Wan was off on his own trying to put a stop to things, risking his life for her once more, while she was left in the company of a creepy Padawan.

Padmé anxiously chewed on the inside of her cheek as she willed her eyes and thoughts to focus on the fire. Maybe if she managed to lose herself in the flickering light, she'd satisfy Vader's request for her to relax. And then maybe he'd leave her be and stop staring directly at her so much. Maybe…

_Hurry up Obi-Wan, _she sighed, _but…be careful. I don't want to lose another friend…_

_

* * *

_

Obi-Wan cautiously picked his way over the rocky, sandy terrain, back to his Jedi Starfighter. He was very careful to keep his presence in the Force masked and to move as silently as possible. If he was spotted now, all his investigating would be for naught.

His visit to the mysterious world of Kamino had been…interesting, to say the least. The tall, willowy, colorless Kaminoans, while brilliant geneticists, seemed quite ignorant of other species behavior, and for that he was deeply grateful. They had entirely missed his utter confusion and shock when they had told him that he had been expected and gone over his 'order' with him.

It seemed that a rogue Jedi Master, Sifo-Dyas (now quite conveniently deceased), had placed an order for a clone army in the name of the Jedi Council for the Republic. This, of course, made no sense whatsoever. When he had consulted the Council for information on this claim, they had been more disturbed than he, for they hadn't sanctioned the commission of an army, nor did they know anything about it.

None of them had even had a premonition concerning this army, ordered nearly ten years previously, and this deeply troubled Obi-Wan. First, the entire system of Kamino had been wiped from the Archives databanks, something that only a Jedi could do. Second, the Kaminoans mistakenly believed that Master Sifo-Dyas had, with the Council's blessing, put in the order for the army. And third, the template for the clone army itself was troubling.

The prime minister of Kamino, Lama Su, and his assistant, Taun We, helpful and friendly as ever, had cheerfully arranged for him to meet the source material for the army after he'd toured their cloning and training facilities. The template was a Madalorian bounty hunter known as Jango Fett. When Obi-Wan had questioned the gruff, wary man about his involvement in the cloning, he claimed to have never met Master Sifo-Dyas. He said he'd been hired for this job by a man who called himself Tyranus.

After his communication with the Council, Obi-Wan had been ready to bring Fett to Coruscant for more formal questioning when the armored bounty hunter had fled with his 'son' Boba. Obi-Wan had tried to stop him, but he'd lost the fight and Jango had gotten away in his odd ship. Thankfully, he'd managed to attach a signal beacon onto the hull of Jango's vessel and had trailed the hunter to the arid world of Geonosis.

While in the debris ring orbiting Geonosis, Obi-Wan had been detected and engaged in a second battle with the bounty hunter. After a good deal of crazy flying, which Vader would've probably enjoyed, Obi-Wan managed to fake his destruction and then make it down to the surface of the planet.

From there, he'd slipped into the rocky, hive-like complex of the insect-like Geonosians in search of the elusive Jango Fett. What he'd found there was even more disturbing than what he'd stumbled across on Kamino. And he was still reeling from it.

At least he'd managed to discover who wanted Padmé dead and why. The Trade Federation, still somehow headed by Nute Gunray, was still smarting from its defeat at Naboo and sought revenge. To soothe their wounded honor, they wanted Senator Amidala dead. But who they went to for help in this was truly shocking.

Count Dooku had once been a respected Jedi Master. He was a student of the ancient and wise Master Yoda and Qui-Gon Jinn had been his final student. While most Jedi had thought of him as a mild radical, he was thought well of especially for his skill in the nearly extinct lightsaber style, Form III. But after Qui-Gon's death on Naboo at the end of the blockade crisis, he resigned from the order and claimed his noble birthright, becoming Count Dooku.

He was here. And he was the one with which Nute Gunray spoke when he anxiously demanded to know if Padmé had been killed yet. And the Count, in his deep velvety voice, had assured the Nemoidian that she would die as promised.

Obi-Wan had spied on the Count as he, the Trade Federation representatives, met with others including the Banking Clans, Geonosians, and the Techno Union to discuss the Separatist Movement. Jango Fett stood guard at Count Dooku's shoulder. A feeling of chilly Darkness permeated the meeting chamber. It reminded him of battling Darth Maul.

As he listened it became clear that they were talking treason. They all signed a treaty of 'mutual protection' if the Republic interfered in their affairs. There was mention of droid armies far greater than what was put into action on Naboo and vague battle plans. They were preparing for war.

When the meeting ended, he slipped out of the hive complex to make his report. And so here he was, hiking over the surface of Geonosis, trying to get his thoughts in order for his up-coming talk with the Council. Who knew his simple investigation into a dead bounty hunter would've lead to all of this?

Obi-Wan sighed as his red-and-white Starfighter came into view. He wearily marched over to Arfour and tapped lightly on the Astromech's sensor dome to wake him up. As Arfour bleated into wakefulness, Obi-Wan straightened his robes and got ready.

"Arfour, I need to place a call to the Council…"

* * *

Vader watched Padmé perch anxiously in her chair by the fireplace. She was tense, a taut string about ready to snap, and she was drenched in negative emotions. He again wished, for probably the millionth time in less than two days, that he could help her, ease her worry and fear. If he revealed his true identity to her… 

No, he'd already made up his mind. She'd only be mad and hurt that he'd lied to her about his name. And then she'd ask too many difficult questions and dredge up nightmarish memories. It'd just be a huge mess that he wanted desperately to avoid. Once Obi-Wan unraveled the mystery and took care of it, the assignment would end and he would never see Padmé again.

Padmé suddenly seemed to come to a decision on something. She straightened up and turned to face him. As she opened her mouth to say something, Vader was suddenly reminded of his vision from that afternoon. Before she could say whatever she meant to say, Artoo rolled into the room and whistled for attention. Vader looked sharply towards the droid and felt a forbidding chill rush down his spine.

"What is it Artoo?" He asked.

Artoo chirped some response that Vader could only guess at a meaning for.

"A message?" He guessed.

Artoo beeped an affirmative and left for the comm room.

Vader followed closely behind the squat little droid. And behind him, he could feel the Senator following along. However he barely paid her any mind. He was too consumed by the dark feeling of premonition. Something was either wrong, or going to go wrong very soon…


	21. 20: Dark Taint

**Chapter 20**  
_Dark Taint_

"Did you make contact Arfour?" Obi-Wan asked.

Arfour warbled an affirmative.

"Good," Obi-Wan nodded. He'd tried making direct contact with the Jedi Council, but there was too much interference and he was too far away. So the only thing he could do was have Vader relay it to them for him. "Begin message. Vader, please re-transmit this message to the Jedi Council, I am too far away to make a direct connection."

He paused before continuing with his report to the Council. "Masters, I have followed the bounty hunter, Jango Fett, to the planet of Geonosis. The plot against Senator Amidala's life, it seems, is only a small part of some larger conspiracy. The Separatist Movement appears to be gearing up for war. The Trade Federation, the Techno Union, and the Geonosians are building a droid army several times greater than the one deployed during the Blockade of Naboo. Count Dooku and the Separatists are… Wait." Obi-Wan broke off as he sensed something amiss.

He strained his senses and heard…something. There was a crunching of stone, like several large boulders rolling towards him. Three Destroyers suddenly spun into view and uncurled into their offensive mode. The instant their shield generators stabilized they locked their weapons on him and fired. Only his Jedi reflexes allowed him to get his lightsaber activated in time.

_This is bad…_

_

* * *

_

Vader felt the air rush out of his lungs as he watched the grainy, blue hologram play itself out. The incoming message had been from Obi-Wan and, as requested, Vader had directed Artoo to open an encrypted link to the Jedi Council on Coruscant and pass on the transmission. The report had seemed fairly routine, but its ending…

Obi-Wan had begun by outlining his findings. Apparently there was a really big conspiracy behind the assassination attempts. Now there was some sort of threat of war. This Separatist political movement was building an army of droids for some unknown purpose. And there had been mention of Count Dooku's name. Then…Obi-Wan had been interrupted by some kind of attack droids. And the message had just gone fuzzy.

Ice formed in his guts as reality dawned on him. Obi-Wan was dead or captured. Either way, the Jedi was far out of his reach and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Distantly, he was aware of Master Windu ordering him to remain on Naboo with the Senator and continue protecting her. Numbly he accepted the orders without really thinking about it. There was some empty reassurance that they would save his Master, but he didn't think much of it. He just agreed with everything they said until the connection went dead.

Vader slumped against the wall and hung his head. The thought of losing Obi-Wan, the man he'd spent nearly every hour of his day with for four years, was surprisingly devastating. He could barely stay standing. Nothing really felt real.

"How could you?" Padmé snapped, jolting him partway out of his daze.

"What?" He mumbled.

"You just sentenced Obi-Wan to death!" She spat. "There's no way that the Council can reach him in time all the way from Coruscant."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it." Vader swallowed, feeling vaguely ill. "I have my orders, my hands are tied."

"So you'll just leave Obi-Wan to his fate then?" She demanded harshly, her tone drenched with disgust.

Something seemed to snap in him and he found himself practically pinning her against the wall in less than a second. "Are you implying that I am in any way happy with this situation?" He hissed in her ear. "That I am happy that Obi-Wan will probably die?"

"I never said anything about you being happy about it," she replied stiffly in a strained voice. "What I am implying is that you don't seem to care all that much about him."

Vader felt oddly detached as he wrapped his hands tightly around her upper arms and pressed her firmly against the wall. "So you think I don't care about my Master?" He snarled softly, icy fury roiling in his stomach. "What brings you to that conclusion?"

"You didn't put up a fight when the Council told you to stay out of it. You simply agreed with them." She explained, wincing at the pressure of his fingers. There was fear in her eyes, but they were cold and resolved.

Never before could Vader recall wanting to kill someone so very much and having such a good opportunity to do the deed at the same time. He tightened his grip, leaned into her, and glared furiously. Darkness poured into him and he welcomed it. "You assume that arguing with the Jedi Council is an option for me. That is a very foolish assumption."

Padmé flinched in pain and opened her mouth to fire back a response. Then she closed it again and stared. "Your…your eyes…"

Vader blinked, totally thrown off course at her odd statement. "What about my eyes?"

"I…thought they turned…yellow…for a second." She frowned. "But that's impossible."

The color slowly drained from his face as the implications of that hit him. He'd never drawn deeply enough of the Dark Side for his eyes to change. _Never_. All the icy fury drained out of him, as did most of the Darkness. He let her go and walked away. And he didn't stop walking until he made it out onto the dark stone balcony.

Then, as he leaned against the cold stone railing, it really hit him how close he came. He had almost seriously hurt Padmé. He'd wanted to kill her. If he hadn't stopped himself, he might have gone all the way. Sure she had wounded his honor, insulted him, accused him of not caring about Obi-Wan, but that was no excuse. It was his own fault that she thought so poorly of him that she would jump to those conclusions. She had no idea who he was or the circumstances of his Jedi status. And he still couldn't bring himself to risk telling her. It would probably only make things worse.

He shivered far more than he should've; the cool night air wasn't _that _cold. A cold sick feeling festered in his stomach and his legs stopped wanting to hold his weight up. _Force_, he wanted to die! Or maybe just curl up and cry until it stopped hurting. Or both.

* * *

Vader had no real idea how long he stood out there, trembling and staring blankly out over the lake. He could only guess that it was under a few hours because it was still night, the sun had yet to rise. But beyond that, he knew nothing. 

And then he wasn't alone. He could feel her, even through the haze of Darkness that clouded his senses. The instant she stepped outside of the house he knew. She hesitated by the door for a long time. But then she walked right up to him, her stride confident, though her emotions were not quite so firm.

"Are you feeling better?" She asked stiffly.

"No," he muttered softly.

"Well," she began after a tense pause, "I just thought that I would inform you that I am going to Geonosis, seeing as you are charged with protecting me."

"Oh," Vader mumbled. Then it clicked. Geonosis was where Obi-Wan was. "What?" He turned to stare stupidly at her.

"You heard me, I am going to Geonosis." She shrugged.

"Why?" Vader asked, hoping not to get the answer he thought he was going to get.

"Naboo is much closer to Geonosis than Coruscant. I hope to either negotiate Obi-Wan's release or buy time for the Jedi Council to intervene." Padmé explained.

Vader frowned. "What makes you think that they'll negotiate with you?"

"I am a Senator of Naboo and a representative of the Republic. Despite the Separatists' differences with the state of affairs of the Republic, I don't believe that they are truly seeking war. They are reasonable people and so am I and they will at least hear me out and try for a more peaceful resolution to this crisis." She replied, her tone clear and full of confidence.

Vader had the oddest impulse to laugh hysterically at her. "How are you a politician? How is it physically possible?" He asked, completely dead serious.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She scowled.

"You are shockingly naïve." He shrugged vaguely.

Padmé pressed her lips tightly together, perhaps to keep from insulting him, and Vader wondered if she'd just turn and storm off. She didn't. "Well, if you would like to fulfill your duty, follow me."

"Fine, fine," he sighed, shoving off the railing to trail after her. "But, for the record, this is a _very_ bad idea and it's _not_ going to work."

"Your opinion is duly noted and ignored." She called over her shoulder.

Vader rolled his eyes at her back and swallowed a sigh. "C'mon Artoo, let's go." He muttered as they passed the blue and white Astromech.

Artoo let out a string of anxious whistles and kept his distance, though he thankfully didn't seem inclined to attack Vader for threatening his mistress earlier. _Thank the Force for small favors, I guess. Not that I really deserve any,_ he sighed to himself. _I'm such a jerk…_


	22. 21: Count Dooku

**Chapter 21**  
_Count Dooku_

Obi-Wan struggled for calm and patience as he strained ineffectually against the stasis field. The shimmering bluish energy held him almost totally immobile with special attention given to his feet and hands. And the tilted angle that he hovered at made the whole experience decidedly less than comfortable.

This particular holding chamber seemed ideal for holding a Jedi. Obi-Wan could see no guards, certainly no biological guards, that could be mentally influenced into letting him go. And the controls for the stasis field were also nowhere to be seen so he couldn't try to use the Force to free himself, though with his hands frozen there was very little he could do anyway. So, for the rest of the foreseeable future, he was stuck right where he was.

He was jolted from his mental bemoaning of his situation at the sound of a pair of boots plodding in his direction. The stasis field rotated around, forcing him to face the dim entrance to the one tunnel in and out of his chamber. And within moments, the person connected to those boots appeared.

In his youth he'd met his Master's former master a few times. The older man had always seemed so refined and regal, every bit the Count he could've been had he not become a Jedi. He was wise man, a talented speaker and mediator, and a saber master with few equals and fewer betters. Obi-Wan's own brief encounters with the man had left him in awe, though he truly never knew the man.

Now, seeing him again after several years, he looked older, but still just as regal and refined as ever. He was no longer a Jedi Master, having left the Order in disgust after Qui-Gon's death, and had taken up his birthright, the title of Count. With his newly acquired wealth and political clout, he had ended up a leader of the Separatist movement, a growing group of systems dissatisfied with the current state of the Republic. And as Obi-Wan now cautiously scanned the ex-Jedi, he could clearly sense the taint of the Dark Side in him. It made the Knight's skin crawl.

"I'm sorry Obi-Wan; things have gotten out of hand." Count Dooku apologized and even managed to sound sincere about it.

"Yes, I would say so." Obi-Wan snorted.

"I will do my best to clear up this misunderstanding and send you on your way." Dooku assured him.

"I'm certain that you will," Obi-Wan replied in a tone of voice that suggested the exact opposite was true. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Mere political meetings, nothing dangerous." Dooku lied smoothly.

"Yes, political meetings that deal with joining armies of battle droids and turning on the Republic are perfectly safe, everyday events." Obi-Wan snorted with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"Please don't take our discussions out of context Obi-Wan," Dooku chided. "The Republic has become hopelessly corrupt. The entire Jedi Order knows this and yet they do nothing!"

"It is not our place to do so. We are guardians, protectors, and mediators, we are not politicians." Obi-Wan retorted. "You know that."

"Normally I would agree with you, but I have learned something." Dooku replied calmly, dropping his voice to a near whisper and leaning in conspiratorially. "I have discovered a terrible truth. The Senate is lost, the Republic cannot be saved."

"Why?" Obi-Wan asked warily, wishing he could lean away from the Count.

"The Senate is under the sway of the Sith Lord." Dooku informed him. "The Republic is well on its way into darkness and ruin. Those of the Separatist Movement simply seek to distance themselves from that fate, that is all."

The very idea that the Republic was already in the hands of the Sith was preposterous. Obi-Wan knew that. But despite his knowledge, he still felt chilled to the core. He held onto his calm though. "You expect me to believe that?"

"No, I don't. Your Jedi upbringing and training leads you to mistrust anything I might tell you for you sense the Dark Side in me. Your perspective is limited and that is unfortunate. If Qui-Gon had lived…he would've understood." Dooku turned to stare at a wall, apparently lost in thought. "Like the Jedi, I seek to destroy the Sith but, unlike Jedi, I have not limited myself. If Qui-Gon were here he would help me."

"Qui-Gon would never join you." Obi-Wan glared, choking down a wave of anger. His Master may have been a rebel, a radical, but he would never agree with what his former master was doing here.

"Well, speculating on what might have been does us no good." Dooku sighed, visibly pulling himself free of his musings. "Since Qui-Gon is no longer among us, would you, his last student, aid me? Together we could destroy the Sith!"

Obi-Wan fought not to visibly cringe at the sight of the elderly ex-Jedi, his eyes glowing with a dark, feverish enthusiasm. Some Jedi speculated in whispers that the former Jedi Master had been so crushed by the loss of his last student that he had forgotten himself, that now he was mad for revenge against those who had killed Qui-Gon. Now Obi-Wan found himself believing that theory. To his eyes, Count Dooku seemed quite mad.

"I think I'll have to decline your offer, Count." Obi-Wan replied tensely.

"I see," Dooku nodded, looking disappointed and disdainful. The older man turned to leave calling out over his shoulder, "it will be difficult to secure your release." And then he was gone.

And Obi-Wan alone with yet more to ponder and worry over.

* * *

Vader fought to keep from pacing the length of the Nubian yacht's cockpit. Instead of indulging in pointless motion, he forced himself to stay seated in the pilot's chair and stare down at the instruments. They didn't tell him much; the ship was still in hyperspace.

He couldn't help but wish that Padmé had found them a different ship to use. This ship, while sleek, fast, and nimble, was ridiculously flashy. It was all curves, fragile slenderness, and silvery mirror skin. If anyone on Geonosis saw it, and he was sure they would, they would be drawn to investigate it and their secretive self-imposed mission would be blown. This little trip, besides being insanely dangerous for the both of them, was doomed to failure.

He'd even gone so far as to inform Padmé of his professional opinion on the matter, repeatedly. She wouldn't budge a micron. No matter what he said, she simply reiterated that she was going, he couldn't stop her, and if he wanted to do his job he'd just have to follow along and help her out.

The urge to pace briefly shifted to the urge to bang his head against a wall, or perhaps the piloting console, to numb his mind against the aggravation her irrational actions were causing him. With two attempts on her life already and some of her servants dead, one would think she would have the sense to obey her protector so that she might live and continue to be useful to the people she herself served. But no, the death and threat of death seemed to drive her into near madness.

_She's such a damn fool. Who's idea was it to elect such a hard-headed idiot to office anyway? Why couldn't she have stayed Queen? Or, better yet, left politics altogether? If only Obi-Wan was here… She'd listen to _him_! He'd find a way to make her listen to reason…_

Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight. A _real_ Jedi! Not an imposter as Vader was. He was fully trained in the ways of the Jedi Order and fully dedicated to their ideals. Obi-Wan would, if need be, die to fulfill his orders.

Flinching involuntarily at the thought of Obi-Wan dying for any dumb reason, Vader scowled down at the ship's scanners. If Obi-Wan were gone, he'd have to pick a new 'master' and they, whoever they were, would be let in on his little secret. That was risky and would probably turn out badly for him. And even if it didn't, he'd have to acclimate himself to a new master. That was not something he wanted to go through.

A beeping alarm dredged him up from his thoughts. The Navi-computer indicated that translation to normal space was a minute and a half away. Sighing in a mixture of anticipation, resignation, and dread, he shifted in his seat and prepared to bring them out of hyperspace.

"Senator Amidala, we will drop out of hyperspace in a minute." He called over his shoulder.

Barely a second after he finished speaking, she strode into the cockpit and dropped into the co-pilot's seat. Vader shook his head slightly and put his full concentration on the task at hand. At the precise moment indicated by the computers, he threw the lever and they dropped free of the craggy blue mists of hyperspace into the black void of normal space.

Before them hung the reddish-orange orb of their destination, the planet Geonosis. It was ringed with a debris field, the bones of a long-dead moon. The surface of the planet itself looked quite desolate. Vader could see no oceans or major bodies of water. There might be lakes, but they were too small to be seen from space. Somewhere down there, Obi-Wan was being held prisoner.

"Last chance to turn back," Vader murmured.

"Take us down to Obi-Wan's ship." Padmé ordered coolly, totally ignoring his warning.

"As you wish Milady." Vader sighed wearily and did as he was told.

The pretty shiny ship responded instantly to his commands, smoothly diving just below the planetary ring and into the atmosphere. To his right he could see Padmé strapping in, as if he would make such a rough landing that restraints would be necessary. Somewhere behind him he could hear Artoo whistle something shrill and worried.

_If you're saying that this is a bad idea, Artoo, then I'd have to agree with you…_


	23. 22: Sneaking Around

**Chapter 22**  
_Sneaking Around_

Vader scowled darkly as he scuttled along behind the white-clad Senator as she scampered through the dark underground tunnels of some Geonosian facility. Of all things she had to wear, she wore bright, sparkling white. At least it wasn't a frilly, billowing dress. She had just a shred enough of sense for that. But still…it was white!

Biting back a curse as he nearly tripped over a barely-seen stone in the tunnel he pressed on after her. Geonosis was a miserable planet. It rivaled Tatooine in its hellishness. There was sand as far as the eye could see, orange-red in color, with red-hued spires of sandstone. That at least was a change from the white-gold of Tatooine sand and the dull tan of its sandstone. And here there was only one sun. But aside from that, there really wasn't any difference.

Padmé was undeterred by the barren landscape. She pressed on, full of foolish confidence in her negotiating abilities, and led him right down into these dark tunnels without a second thought. Weary and unwilling to argue, he followed in the vain hope of protecting her from the enemies all around them, and from her own naïve self.

A warning from the Force hit Vader like an icy gust of wind and he lunged forward, grabbed the Senator, and hauled her into a bend in the tunnel. She started to protest and he clamped one hand over her mouth to silence her. Shifting his position so that his dark Jedi robes concealed her against the dark stone tunnel, he waited tensely for the danger to appear and then hopefully pass. They didn't have long to wait.

Mere moments after he had pulled her aside, a horde of insect-like Geonosians marched by. Padmé saw this and immediately stopped fighting him and even huddled underneath him to keep from giving their position away. For the moment, the Force was with them and they were not spotted. Vader kept her shielded until he could no longer hear the Geonosians before he let her go... Reluctantly.

He was left deeply shaken, not by the close call, but by his prolonged close proximity to Padmé. He'd never really been close to girls before, and his Mom didn't count. Now all that he could think about was how nice she smelled, how nice it had felt to touch her. And worse, all he wanted to do was do that again.

Thoughts like that were dangerous, forbidden. The Count had beaten it into him early on. Attachments, connections to others, made you weak, vulnerable, exploitable. Family, friends, love, he was not allowed those things anymore. And it was similar with the Jedi. Attachment was forbidden. Friends were okay, but no marriage, and duty to the Order came before anything else.

Well, there was one exception to the no-marriage rule that he was aware of. Jedi Master and Council Member Ki-Adi-Mundi was married, to several different women in fact. But his species, Cereans, was threatened. The birthrate was too low and their numbers were shrinking. To keep his race going, the Jedi allowed him to procreate. There were probably a few other exceptions like Master Mundi, but they were rare.

Vader was jolted from his musing by Padmé vanishing around a bend of the tunnel. Gulping back a river of curses he strode after her, feeling his tumultuous mood grow darker. He was supposed to be her protector, yet she refused to let him lead the way and keep her safe.

A little way deeper into the underground complex, they had to duck aside to avoid being spotted again. And this time, they darted down a side tunnel that turned out to not be a tunnel at all. It was a walkway, a bridge that was retracted at the moment, that oversaw a vast chamber.

It was a droid factory. Down below them they could see a maze of conveyor belts and manufacturing machines. The noise of crashing metal and moving parts was so loud it was nearly deafening. And all around was bright sparks and molten metal. Any observer could not help but be impressed by the sight, and most would also be unnerved.

"Battle droids." Padmé spat out the words like a curse.

"I see that." Vader shrugged, leaning in a bit closer so that she could hear him better.

"These are the same model as the ones that invaded Naboo ten years ago." She elaborated. Apparently this was significant to her.

"And that means…?" Vader trailed off curiously.

"This design is exclusive to the Trade Federation, the group that invaded Naboo. They aren't the exclusive manufacturers of the droids, but they sell the design to other groups and reserve the right to call them up in an 'emergency'. Judging by the rate of manufacture, they're building up a new, larger army this time. The big questions are why and what for?" Padmé scowled, trying to puzzle through the possible motives.

"The 'what for' is easy," Vader snorted. "Battle droids are designed for one purpose, war."

"But what war?" Padmé snapped, frustrated. "There's no war anywhere."

"Well, not yet. Maybe they're going to start one." Vader suggested.

Padmé looked horrified. "There's no reason for them to!"

"Was there any reason for the Trade Federation to invade Naboo?" Vader asked.

"It was due to a dispute over taxes." She mumbled.

"That's a really stupid reason to invade an entire planet." He commented.

"It was." She sighed. "But the main Separatist Movement is non-violent."

"They're non-violent?" He repeated, pointedly glancing out at the bustling droid factory.

"Yes, they are. That's why this factory makes no sense." Padmé scowled.

Vader about to reply when things really went wrong. To avoid being seen, they'd closed the door behind them, and the retracted bridge left only a small ledge for them to stand on. Without warning the ledge vanished, fully retracting into the wall, and sending them tumbling down to the factory floor. He barely managed to slow her fall enough to keep her from getting hurt.

The instant they hit the ground he grabbed her and yanked her into the nearest large shadow. All his senses were alert as he scanned the busy factory floor for threats and escape routes. There were machine-tender droids and Geonosians all over the place seeing to the assembly line and quality control. If any one of those saw them, they were finished. They had to get out of there as soon as possible. Sooner even.

"Keep quiet and follow me," he hissed into her ear.

Before she could reply, he spied an opening that would take them to a safer hiding spot that was near an apparent exit. He took her by her upper arm and practically dragged her across the stony floor, forcing her to keep low. Only when they were safe in a space underneath a conveyor did he loosen his grip on her.

"A little warning next time would be nice." The Senator grumbled into his ear.

"Sorry," he shrugged, not at all apologetic.

She huffed but kept silent. Vader kept his focus on their escape. He had to be careful though. He sensed that there was danger here, a more distant dark presence that had little to do with their immediate danger. Vader wasn't sure what that elusive thing was that he sensed at the edge of his perception, but he got the feeling that he should be especially cautious in using the Force. He'd worry about the vague threat later, when it was safer.

A few more scampers across the open floor and they were nearly free. They only had to make it out the wide door ten meters away. The problem: it was the most open part of the entire factory complex. This was going to be the trickiest, riskiest part. But if they made it, maybe he could convince her to leave. The Jedi rescue force had to be close now. They would save Obi-Wan.

But then, things went wrong again. Disastrously wrong. A small flood of Geonosians, probably a new shift of workers, marched in and one sharp eyed being saw them. The alarm went up and suddenly the two of them were faced with an angry swarm of natives.

With a liberal amount of cursing, Vader snapped on his blue blade and tried to mow his way through the Geonosians. If they went fast enough and shocked their opponents enough there was a chance, however small, that they would escape. It wasn't to be.

There were simply too many Geonosians. They, individually, were no match for a lightsaber. But they were in a massive group and rolled over him like a wave. He and Padmé were separated early on, and it was a battle to keep her in sight. At one point, he almost reached her, but then a Geonosian managed a lucky strike on his head and things got fuzzy.

The noise, which had been so loud before, abruptly receded to a distant, indistinct rumble. He couldn't see all that well, colors and shapes had an odd tendency to run together. The whole situation became surreal, dream-like, and things cut in and out. Or at least that's how he remembered it later.

Somehow, someway, a survival instinct kicked in. He got out of there and shook whatever pursuers he'd acquired. And some time later, he came back to normal function and found himself safe, alone, and still armed with his lightsaber. But Padmé was nowhere to be seen…


	24. 23: A Decision Made

**Chapter 23**  
_A Decision Made_

It seemed to be early dawn when he stumbled out of a tunnel exit into a rocky canyon. He staggered a few paces, then collapsed onto the hard, sandy ground, panting in a combination of fear, pain, and weariness. He was bruised, hungry, exhausted, and he had a splitting headache, but he was alive. Normally this was a comforting fact. But not this time.

He's screwed up, monumentally. It was his job to keep her safe. It was _his job_. The Jedi Council had entrusted her safety to _him_. Obi-Wan trusted _him _to keep her out of danger.

In another life, it seemed, she had been his friend. She didn't like him now, not that she knew it was him exactly, but he liked her. And losing her, failing her, and everyone else, was like being run over by a herd of raging Banthas. Twice.

Now not only was his 'Master', Obi-Wan Kenobi, imprisoned here, but so was Padmé Amidala Naberrie, Senator of Naboo. And if he dared return to the Temple without them, he'd be kicked out. And then he would be fair game for the Count.

Choking back a sudden sob of frustration, fear, and despair, Vader curled up into a ball and tried to get a hold of himself. If Padmé was still with him, or if Obi-Wan was free, he would be fine. But both were out of his reach, trapped, and if they weren't dead already, they probably would be soon. He was all alone and could barely cope. He certainly couldn't formulate a plan of action.

Eventually, he managed to get enough control to sit up and try to think. But he got nowhere fast. His thoughts just ran in circles. Useless circles that gave him no answers. And finally he wondered, _what would Obi-Wan do?_

He'd meditate of course. Obi-Wan's favorite thing to do was meditate. His favored activities were ranked like this: meditation, saber practice, katas, and tea.

Swallowing hard, Vader shifted into a comfortable position and desperately set himself to the task of meditating. If he worked at it enough, he would at least get the calm he needed to think clearly. At most, he'd get lucky and get an informative vision. At the very least, it gave him something to do.

It took longer than it should've. He'd trained extensively under Obi-Wan for four years now, almost five, and then there were the two years of pure Hell under the Count. He should be a _master_ meditator. But despite his slow start, he did it.

As he slipped into the currents of the Force, the looming, indistinct presence he'd been vaguely aware of earlier came into slightly sharper focus. It was very subtle and heavily shielded, but frighteningly powerful. And it was familiar. _Count Dooku._

Vader lurched out of meditation and nearly slipped into hyperventilation. He felt physically ill. His personal boogeyman was _here_, of all places!

_Did he notice me? Did he feel me? Does he know that I'm here? Does he know that I'm with the Jedi now? Will he come for me? Will he steal me away? Will he kill me?_

A hand came from somewhere behind him and gripped his shoulder. Vader had been so consumed by his panicked thoughts that he hadn't even felt the person come up to him. And the shock sent him tumbling forward into a defensive ball, trembling.

"What are you doing Vader?" A deep voice demanded. A voice that thankfully wasn't Dooku's.

"Huh?" Vader squeaked and turned to see none other than Jedi Master Mace Windu standing there and looking very displeased. "Um…"

"I seem to recall ordering you to remain on Naboo and continue to protect Senator Amidala." Master Windu frowned, looking surprisingly menacing for a Jedi who was supposed to look serene and peaceful.

"Yes, and…I would have. But…Senator Amidala…didn't agree." Vader cringed, struggling to pull himself back together.

"Explain." Master Windu commanded.

"She did not feel that the Jedi would reach Geonosis in time to help Master Kenobi. Since Naboo is much closer than Coruscant, she had the idea to go herself. The Senator felt that she would be able to either negotiate for Master Kenobi's release or buy him some time." Vader wrinkled his nose in disgust at such a foolish idea. "I tried to talk her out of it, but she refused to listen."

"So if Senator Amidala is here, where is she?" Master Windu inquired, glancing around at the rocky barren landscape.

Vader suddenly found the sand underneath his knees to be utterly fascinating. "We…got separated… They have her."

"What?" Master Windu growled.

"I screwed up, we got separated, and they have her." Vader muttered from between clenched teeth and then braced himself for a serious thrashing. He'd never failed the Jedi before, but if it followed the same pattern that failing his previous masters had, this was going to hurt. A lot.

"So, the reason that you're here is because Senator Amidala came?" Master Windu asked, catching Vader off-guard.

"Yes, why else would I come out here?" Vader replied, glancing up at the towering, dark-skinned Master.

"I don't know, why would you?" The Master asked in an odd tone of voice.

Vader blinked and then it hit him what the Jedi was suggesting. Obi-Wan tended to question his motives, especially when he was being difficult, but none of the others who knew his secret had ever openly asked this before. He swallowed hard before answering.

"Believe me, Master Windu, when I say that this is the last planet I wish to be on at this moment. I would much rather be watching over Senator Amidala on Naboo, despite her dislike for me and her ability to drive me up the wall. My only intent in coming here was to fulfill my responsibility in protecting the Senator. In fact, she told me that if I wanted to do my duty and protect her that I would have to come along." Vader replied calmly.

Master Windu studied him both visually and through the Force. When it seemed he could find no mistruth or deception, he looked displeased but nodded. "Why do you dislike this planet so much?" The Master asked.

"I have nothing against this planet in particular," Vader said slowly. "But the person that I've been running from, the main one, is here."

"Oh?" Master Windu tensed. "You've always been vague about who that is when we ask. You imply that he's nobility of some kind, but no more than that. Are you ready to say more?"

Vader felt annoyance churning up in his stomach and the stress of the situation didn't help any. "Exactly how many Force-sensitive noblemen are there out in the galaxy? How many are _trained_ to use their power?" Vader paused to lurch to his feet to look the Jedi Master levelly in the eye. "I only know of one."

"And who is that?" Master Windu asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Vader was seriously tempted to punch the dense Jedi in the head. "Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Count Dooku is here and if he catches me I'll most likely end up dead before the sun sets."

"You accuse Dooku of training you in the Dark Side." Master Windu said in a low, threatening tone.

"Yes," Vader swallowed, "I do. He's not a Jedi anymore, he left the Order for a reason; don't expect him to act like a Jedi because he isn't."

For a brief moment, Vader thought that the Jedi Master was going to hit him, not only for his rude manner of address, but for accusing his former colleague of joining the Dark Side. But the Master visibly took hold of himself and stalked a short distance away to think over what he'd heard. After some meditation, Mace Windu returned to speak with him again.

"Come with me, I'll arrange for you to be transported off-planet as soon as possible." Master Windu ordered.

"Master Windu?" Vader blinked uncertainly. "You're…sending me away?"

"Of course, the reason that you are with us is to hide from your enemies, namely Count Dooku, so it only makes sense to send you off-planet away from him." Master Windu patiently explained. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes," Vader nodded, "but… I…I would like to stay, if I could."

"You wish to stay?" Windu inquired.

"Yes," Vader nodded again.

"Even though Count Dooku is present?" Windu raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes," Vader swallowed nervously, rubbing his sweaty palms against the sides of his tunic.

Master Windu studied him intently before nodding. "Alright, if that is what you want, follow me."

The Jedi Master turned and left. Vader followed.

_I'm coming Padmé. I'm coming Obi-Wan. And Count Dooku be damned!_


	25. 24: The Arena

**Chapter 24**  
_The Arena_

The white-hot noon sun blazed high overhead. The air was still, dry, and hot. And that, along with the muted roar of the surrounding crowd, combined to make Obi-Wan quite miserable.

He found himself chained by his wrists to a tall stone pillar in the center of a sandy arena. The stands were filled with jeering Geonosians, eager for entertainment. Down on his level a few armed Geonosians patrolled the perimeter just in case something went wrong. High above the crowd was the VIP balcony where the leaders of the Separatist Movement would watch the impending spectacle. After all, it wasn't every day that one got to watch the public execution of a Jedi.

Sighing wearily, Obi-Wan sought peace through light meditation. He blocked out the rumblings from the crowd and the hot blinding sun as he reached for the cool calm of the Force. Soon he would be ready to face his fate, whatever it might be.

A strange ripple in the Force caught his attention and drew him away from his meditation. He opened his eyes and turned to see a shocking sight. Senator Padmé Amidala was approaching in a chariot. She was a prisoner and it seemed she would be joining him on the execution block.

Obi-Wan watched in silence as she was chained to the pillar to his left. For her part, she looked deeply embarrassed. He frowned and waited for the Geonosians to move away before speaking to her.

"Good afternoon Senator, what brings you out here?" Obi-Wan asked very dryly.

"It was my intent to help you, Obi-Wan, but it seems that I failed." She replied tensely. Though Obi-Wan noticed her voice sounded odd, like she had something hidden in her mouth. A hair pin, perhaps?

"I see," Obi-Wan muttered. "But what I don't see is my Padawan. I hope you didn't do anything terrible to him."

"We got separated. I don't know where he is." Padmé shrugged.

Obi-Wan sighed and was about to ask for more details when he was interrupted. Count Dooku and many of the Separatist leaders appeared on the balcony and the Count raised his arms for silence. When the Geonosians fell quiet, he began his little speech condemning Obi-Wan and Padmé. And then a Geonosian leader, a duke of some kind, ordered the execution to begin.

The great stone doors at the far end of the arena groaned open and two exotic creatures were driven out into the bright sunlight. The first was an Ackly, a massive crab-like saurian predator. The second was a slender toothy Nexu. Both were herded by shock poles towards the two of them chained to pillars.

To his left, Obi-Wan could see Padmé furiously picking at her shackles with the hidden hair pin. Obi-Wan had no such lock pick and instead immersed himself into the Force and let it guide his actions. As the two animals drew closer, Padmé got one hand free and she began to climb up her pillar. Obi-Wan waited.

The Ackly scuttled towards him, half-blind by the strong sun, hurting from the shock poles, and starving. It stabbed randomly at him and, after a few close calls, Obi-Wan managed to trick it into stabbing through his chain. Now free to move about, he led the screeching Ackly in a merry chase around the arena.

He heard Padmé yell out in pain and caught a glimpse of her perched on top of her pillar, bleeding from shallow claw marks across her back. Clenching his teeth, Obi-Wan carefully led the Ackly towards her in hopes that it would attack the now limping Nexu. He charged the Nexu and at the last minute darted to the side and the Ackly that was following him trampled the fragile Nexu under its sharp claws.

This took care of the Nexu, but the Ackly was still going strong. Obi-Wan ducked around the crumbling pillars, trying to lose or confuse it, but despite its blindness it kept with him. Padmé shimmed down to help him, and at some point he got a spear away from a Geonosian to use on the Ackly, but it kept coming.

And then they had a fortunate break. They tricked the Ackly into ramming headfirst into one of the pillars. Stunned, it sunk to the ground twitching but still alive. Obi-Wan sighed in relief as Padmé unlocked the remaining shackle. She was about to start work on Obi-Wan's restraints when Count Dooku began to speak again.

Surprisingly, the elderly Count was interrupted by a violet lightsaber blade near his throat. Master Mace Windu had arrived. Seconds later, hooded figures mixed in with the native Geonosian crowd revealed themselves to be Jedi Masters and Knights. However, Count Dooku didn't seem to be concerned.

When the arena doors groaned open again, Obi-Wan understood why. Destroyer droids rolled out of the shadows into the sand, uncurled, raised their shields, and began advancing. Behind them, ranks of battle droids and super battle droids marched out to begin their assault. Things had just gone from bad to worse.

Obi-Wan did his best to keep Padmé safe in the chaos. It helped that she picked up a fallen droid's blaster and was a good shot, but he was unarmed. And worse, his wrists were still bound together. He could Force-shove droids around, but that was all he was able to do.

Then things looked up for him. His old friend Siri swung by and paused long enough to cut free his hands before the flow of battle tore her away. With his hands free, he could now attack into two separate directions at once, though he was still unarmed. And then it got even better.

Vader, of all people, appeared next to him and passed him a spare lightsaber. Obi-Wan was shocked almost to the point of paralysis by this. This was an open battle, something he would never have imagined his anxious, paranoid charge would willingly participate in. But he was here in spite of the danger and it almost made Obi-Wan smile. Together, they mowed through the droids and kept the Senator safe.

* * *

Vader fought for focus as the battle raged. His fear of the Count and the adrenalin burning through his bloodstream tempted him to give in and draw on the Darkness. If he did, it would be easier to fight. But it would also clue in the rest of the Jedi to his true nature and they would turn on him in a heartbeat. So he clung to the Light and his fragile focus.

It wasn't enough. If the Jedi strike force had been fighting just native Geonosians, this battle would be over already. But they were fighting battle droids. And the droids just kept coming. No one is perfect, no one is invincible, not even Jedi. The longer the fighting went on, the wearier the Jedi became, and some began to fall.

In the end, only a tiny fraction of the Jedi remained, mostly pressed into a shrinking circle in the center of the arena. And then the droids stopped firing. A few scattered survivors were herded into the circle. Then Count Dooku stepped forward on his balcony to address them.

"Throw down your weapons and your lives will be spared!" The Count declared.

"We will not be hostages to be bartered with Dooku!" Master Windu shouted back defiantly.

"Then, I'm sorry old friend." Dooku sighed, managing to look sincerely remorseful.

The droids moved to start firing again when Padmé cried out, "look!"

Overhead several ships appeared, some kind of atmospheric attack craft. They rained fire down on the droids and landed nearby, opening up to disgorge mysterious men in white armor. Vader caught a brief glimpse of the tiny Master Yoda among them shouting out some kind of orders.

The cornered Jedi hurried into the transports while the white soldiers gave them cover fire. Vader hopped in right after his Master and the two of them helped the Senator aboard. And when all of them were in the gunships, they rose up into the air and flew out of the execution arena.

And they flew right into Hell. Outside the arena there was a full blown war. White armored soldiers went head-to-head with ranks upon ranks of droids. Laser fire was everywhere and the roar of rockets and the resulting explosions was deafening. Globular ships tried to escape into space, but tank fire sent several crashing back to the ground. Soldiers died and droids were destroyed. Vader just stared at it all open-mouthed.

"After centuries of peace, this is how it all ends." Padmé muttered sadly near his ear.

"Yeah," Vader muttered, feeling vaguely ill, "I guess so…"


	26. 25: The Duel

**Chapter 25**  
_The Duel_

Vader clutched tightly to one of the overhead handles on the gunship as it lurched crazily to one side. Some turbulence from a nearby rocket explosion almost flipped them over and he found himself surprised that some of the clone troops hadn't fallen out of the open sides. But somehow they stabilized and continued on weaving through the chaotic crowded skies over the Geonosis battlefield.

Fortunately they'd had time to stop and land at a command center and let the Senator off. Obi-Wan had wanted Vader to get off there too, but he had refused. He wasn't going to leave Obi-Wan alone with only clones for back-up.

As the battle intensified, their particular gunship was pushed near the fringes of the fighting. Just as they fired off the last of their rockets, Vader happened to glance out of the side of the gunship and see something. It looked like a speeder bike and some other little things racing away from the fighting. But what would a little speeder bike like that be doing out here?

Frowning, Vader extended his senses toward the little bike. Whoever it was had tightly shielded themselves, he would never have noticed the bike unless he'd happened to look directly at it. And then he realized just who he was looking at. It was Dooku.

"What's that?" Obi-Wan shouted over the constant roar of battle.

"It-it's Dooku!" Vader managed to shout back in reply.

"Dooku?" Obi-Wan blinked, squinting at the rapidly vanishing speeder bike. "After him!" He shouted to the pilot.

"Yes sir!" The pilot cried and turned the gunship onto a pursuit course.

As they drew closer, Vader grew increasingly anxious. While he'd wanted to stay and help Obi-Wan, he really didn't want to meet the creep face-to-face. "Can you shoot him down?" He asked the weird soldiers.

"Sorry sir, we're out of missiles." One of them replied.

"What about the laser cannons?" Vader tried.

"They're overheated." Was the answer.

"Damn it all." Vader hissed bitterly, doing his best to swallow his rising anxiety.

Then the Count decided to make their lives just a bit more interesting. The weird pointy things that had been following his bike like escorts suddenly dropped back out of sight. Then the gunship began to rock and jolt at the pointy things fired at them. There was no time to try and lose them. If they did, they'd lose the Count. So they kept on chasing him even though they risked losing shields and getting blown out of the sky.

Up ahead, Vader spied a mountain range of some sort, and the Count was aimed directly for it. It didn't look like a viable avenue for escape, but he knew the Count was no fool. There was probably a ship hidden out there waiting for him. They just had to catch up with him before he got there, beat him, and maybe this crazy war would be over before it even really started.

A solid hit from one of the Count's escorts almost overturned the gunship, causing a couple of the white-armored soldiers to tumble down over the reddish-orange sand dunes below. The gunship pilots were skilled though and they managed to stay in the air, but it was clear they wouldn't last much longer. Thankfully the Count seemed to have reached where he was going.

The speeder bike climbed to dart into a dark cave opening in an otherwise sheer cliff face. The gunship shuddered from the continued fire as it lurched sideways, drawing near the projecting lip of the cave. At the right moment, Obi-Wan out of the ship onto the ledge and Vader was right behind him. They'd barely stumbled into the dim cave when there was a tremendous explosion behind them. Vader made a conscious effort not to think about the clone troopers in white armor that had just been obliterated.

Instead, Vader decided to focus on following Obi-Wan deeper into the cave and his probable doom. Clenching his teeth and his fists, he ran after the Jedi Knight into the artificially lit cave. They skidded to a halt at the opening of a cavern in which sat a ship that Vader found uncomfortably familiar. It was Dooku's private ship, the _Solar Sailor_. And the Count was almost ready to board it and disappear.

"Going so soon Count Dooku?" Obi-Wan challenged, taking the spare saber into his hand. Vader trembled silently just behind Obi-Wan's shoulder, wanting nothing more than to wake up and find this all to be some kind of twisted nightmare.

"Ah, Obi-Wan, how nice of you to see me off!" Dooku chuckled, calmly turning to regard his pursuers. "Oh and you've brought a friend along, too!" The elderly man smiled as he noticed Vader. Then the smile faded as he took a closer look.

"You won't be going anywhere Dooku." Obi-Wan asserted, gripping the still inactive saber hilt with both hands.

"Who is that with you?" Dooku murmured, totally ignoring what Obi-Wan had just said.

Vader bit the inside of his cheek and threw up the tightest, thickest shields he could muster. He wouldn't let the Count in, no matter what. The icy prickles against his mind proved to him that the old creep was trying. _I should've listened to Master Windu! Staying was a really bad idea!_

"It doesn't matter." Obi-Wan snapped back.

Dooku ignored Obi-Wan again, his focus solely on figuring Vader out. And then his dark eyes lit up with unsettling glee. "Oh my! Vader, my dear boy, is that you?"

Vader gulped back a spike of rage laced with mindless terror. _I'm not your 'dear boy' you bastard!_

"It _is_ you!" Dooku chuckled. "Whatever are you doing up there dressed in that ridiculous costume? Don't tell me that's fooled anyone." The Count laughed harshly.

"Shut up!" Vader snarled, kicking himself at the strained pitch of his own voice.

"Mind your tongue boy," Dooku chided. "You ought to be old enough to know better than to talk back to your superiors." His tone was light, but there was dark menace underneath.

"Yeah, I 'ought to'." Vader sneered, trembling in a combination of nerves and rising rage.

"Mind yourself," Dooku growled warningly. "I know you know better."

"Stuff it! I don't listen to you anymore!" Vader snapped, his right hand unconsciously clutching the hilt of his Jedi lightsaber.

"I see," Dooku replied icily. "Obi-Wan, what has this miserable little desert rat told you?"

That did it. Vader couldn't stand it anymore. This snobby, stuck-up, corrupt, shameful excuse for a human being had haunted him for years. This lousy bastard had fired his nightmares and been his constant shadow, always on the fringes of his thoughts. And he was tired of it.

Tired of being hunted. Tired of being haunted. Tired of being so damn afraid all the time. It was time for this to end, and he'd end it!

Without a thought, he lunged at the Count, intent on cutting him down and being free of him forever. He probably should've thought about it before doing it. It would've saved him a good deal of pain.

Before he even managed to activate his saber, the Count slammed him with a high-powered blast of Force lightning. He was knocked completely off his feet and smacked had into a rough stone wall of the cavern. The air was ripped from his lungs as his nerves caught fire. He would've screamed in agony if it was possible. And as he drifted out of consciousness, he mentally kicked himself.

_How could've I have forgotten about **that**?_

_

* * *

_

Obi-Wan winced as Vader was struck by an unnatural blast of lightning and went flying. He'd tried to keep the boy from attacking. The only chance they might have for success was if they attacked together. But before he could even open his mouth things had already completely gone down the tubes.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan hurried to interpose himself between the semi-conscious Vader and Count Dooku. No matter what happened here, he had a duty to protect this boy with his life if necessary. Only an order from the Council could end this mission.

With a sneer, Dooku fired another burst of lightning towards him, but he snapped his lightsaber up to deflect it. Annoyed, the Count tried again, with the same unsuccessful result. Nearly scowling now, Dooku unhooked his odd curved saber hilt and prepared for a duel.

"Really, Obi-Wan, what has he told you?" Dooku asked.

"Very little, I'm afraid," Obi-Wan shrugged, holding his lightsaber in a defensive position. "Shall we begin?"

"If you insist." Dooku chuckled darkly, activating his saber.

The instant the ruby red blade was fully extended, the Count struck. The man may be old, but he had the power of the Force behind him and so he had the strength, speed, and agility of a much younger man coupled with the experience his age afforded him. That left Obi-Wan hard-pressed to keep up.

But the Force was with him too. That's probably the only reason he hadn't died by the third swing. It guided his own swings that countered and parried. If he lost focus, even for an instant, he was a dead man.

"Come now, Obi-Wan, you disappoint me." Dooku taunted as his red-bladed saber swept in elegant arcs without wasting a single movement.

Dueling was like a fancy dance for him, and he was a master at it. Fighting with him made Obi-Wan feel like an Initiate trying out a lightsaber for the first time. Dooku could probably keep this up for hours. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, wasn't sure if he could keep it up for five more minutes.

And then it happened. Dooku found a hole in Obi-Wan's defense. The red blade slipped down and burned him across his thigh. That sent him collapsing to the floor and opened him up for another strike, this one across the upper arm on the same side. Overwhelmed by the shock and pain, his lightsaber fell from his hand and skittered a few feet away.

"This is the end, I'm afraid." Count Dooku sighed, sounding appropriately apologetic. He raised his saber high overhead in preparation for the final fatal strike. "It was a pleasure dueling with you, young Kenobi. A pity that you didn't last longer, though."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and waited for the strike to fall…

* * *

Vader blinked away the hazy splotches that danced in front of his eyes and struggled upright. Dazedly he watched Obi-Wan and the Count duke it out with lightsabers. The flicker and flash of the red and blue lightsabers was mesmerizing. But then Obi-Wan went down.

That was quite enough to knock him free of his dazed state. Absolute horror washed over him. Obi-Wan was going to die. The Count was going to kill him. And it was all his fault. Obi-Wan was going to die because he was too stupid to keep control of himself.

_No…_

In spite of his tingling, half-numb muscles, he somehow found the strength and focus to throw himself practically across the cavernous room. Without a second to spare, he interposed his own blue blade between Obi-Wan and the Count's crimson saber. Vader idly wondered who was more shocked at this, Obi-Wan or Dooku.

"Brave of you boy, but I'd thought you'd learned your lesson." Dooku managed after a moment.

"Well, I _am_ a slow learner." Vader snorted. "But you already knew that."

And then he knocked Dooku's blade aside, slashing a few more times to press the old man back, away from Obi-Wan. Dooku frowned, but retreated for the time being, allowing Vader to have his way. Vader fought down a wave of dread as he picked up on the fact that Dooku was toying with him.

"Here!" He heard Obi-Wan cry and he turned just in time to catch the other lightsaber.

Vader switched on the second blade and turned on the pressure. At first the second lightsaber seemed to give him the edge. He could attack with one blade and defend with the other. And the Count appeared to be pushed on the defensive. But then Dooku sliced through the emitter on Obi-Wan's replacement saber and proved that he was still the master here.

"Enough of this foolishness. Put that saber down and come with me." Dooku commanded, backing off slightly.

"Weren't you listening _old man_? I don't listen to you anymore." Vader growled, pressing the attack and accidentally slicing through a power cable, causing the lights to flicker.

"All I see is a foolish little child blindly throwing everything away out of spite." Dooku fired back coldly, circling around in the dark lit only by his blood-red blade.

"And all _I_ see is a crazy old man who is in desperate need of a reality check!" Vader bit back.

Dooku looked furious, but managed to hold himself back. Briefly. "You have a great destiny before you–"

"Save it for someone who cares!" Vader interrupted.

"So be it," Dooku growled, "you've made your choice."

Then the duel intensified. Dooku held nothing back now, slashing and stabbing faster and faster. Vader found himself struggling to keep up. Making any attacks of his own was impossible. And then he couldn't keep up anymore.

There was a searing flash and his hand and arm were on fire. He couldn't seem to balance anymore. His saber was missing. And then he was slammed backwards and into the hard stone floor. Then there was only darkness…

* * *

Obi-Wan felt the breath driven out of him as he watched Dooku slice right through Vader's arm. The boy wobbled slightly, flailing for balance, and then went flying backwards as Dooku knocked him aside. He skidded over the floor and came to rest with his head lying across Obi-Wan's shins. Vader was out cold.

Vader had actually been holding his own for a while. Though now it seemed the Count had been messing around the whole time before hacking off poor Vader's arm. And now with the both of them disabled, they were now at the Count's mercy. They were doomed.

"Well, it has been interesting," Dooku chuckled darkly, "but I must be going." He slowly walked towards them, idly swinging his crimson saber. "Farewell." The blade rose, but froze mid-strike.

The echoing sound of a tiny cane tapping against stone seemed to rise out of thin air. Not long after a tiny figure emerged out of the shadows and hobbled towards the Count. Master Yoda, it seemed, wanted a turn.

"Ah, Master Yoda, how nice of you to join us." Dooku sneered.

"Count Dooku," Master Yoda scowled.

"I wonder, do you know exactly what it is that you shelter?" Dooku mused, pointedly glancing at Vader's prone form.

"Far you have fallen, my old Padawan, to see a child as an object." Yoda replied with weary sadness.

"I have not fallen!" Dooku snapped. "I have merely come to see things in a new light."

"No Light do I sense in you, but the Dark Side…another matter, that is." Yoda sighed.

"Enough of this chatter," Dooku scowled. "Let me show you what I have discovered."

Dooku suited actions to his words and hurled a blast of Force lightning at his tiny former Master. The little green troll merely raised one taloned hand and caught the blast, absorbing and dissipating the energy effortlessly. Dooku glared and tried it again, with the same result.

"Much you still have to learn, Dooku." Yoda chided.

The Count glared furiously and began destroying the hidden hanger. He ripped pipes and cables off the walls and hurled them towards the ancient Jedi. Yoda froze them in midair and cast them aside. Dooku then collapsed a large section of the ceiling to try and crush the green gnome. Yoda caught the rubble and threw it away. Clearly frustrated, the Count decided to try something else.

"It seems this will not be decided by our knowledge in the Force, but with our skills with a lightsaber." Dooku declared, relighting his saber.

"So it seems," Yoda sighed, lighting his own tiny green blade.

And then the duel really began. Obi-Wan could barely follow the action. There were only flashes of red and green and the crackle and hum of clashing lightsabers.

Once, when he had been a young Initiate, he'd seen Master Yoda give a saber demonstration. He'd chosen to go against an enormous alien Jedi Master who fought with two lightsabers. And in five minutes, the huge Jedi Master was sprawled on the floor, weaponless, and Master Yoda was calmly picking up his cane and hobbling away.

This duel was even more impressive than that one was. Yoda moved faster, bounced off ledges and walls, and only seemed to be still when his green saber was locked against the Count's red one. Now it was Count Dooku who was hard-pressed to keep up. And the Count knew it.

Then the wily old man appeared to get an idea. He managed to trap Yoda's saber with his, and then he reached over and attacked a heavy mechanical spire. The column toppled over and started to land on Obi-Wan and the unconscious Vader. Obi-Wan was too stunned to move, all he could do was squirm slightly, trying to shield Vader with his own body. Not that that would do any good. The column was so heavy, they'd both be crushed.

But the blow never came. Obi-Wan glanced up to see Yoda straining against the unexpected burden. The metal spire hovered above them before being shoved clear and clattering to the floor. And then the engines on Dooku's ship roared to life and it rocketed out of the hanger into the clear Geonosian sky.

Obi-Wan shook his head and turned his attention back to the unconscious Vader. The young man twitched slightly, signaling that he might wake up soon. For his sake, Obi-Wan hoped he didn't. Grimacing against the burning in his injured arm, he very carefully pulled Vader closer to examine what was left of his right arm.

It was bad. While the intense heat of the saber blade had cauterized the stump, keeping Vader from bleeding to death, it also meant that there was no chance that his hand could be reattached. For a Jedi, this was a devastating injury. He'd never be the same.

"Tragic this is." Yoda sighed, having hobbled over himself to inspect their wounds.

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed, sensing the aged Master was referring to much more than Vader's maiming. "It is."

"M-master." Vader mumbled in barely a whisper. His eyelids flickered as he fought his way back to consciousness. "W…wh–"

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and made a decision. He slipped around Vader's weak barriers and dove deep into his mind. Before the semi-conscious young man could stop him, he planted a strong sleep suggestion that would hopefully keep him asleep until he was brought to a medical center and treated. With a strangled whimper, Vader slipped back into dreamless sleep.

"Appreciate that he will not." Yoda calmly pointed out.

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed wearily. "I know." _He'll hate me for this, but hopefully he'll understand why…_


	27. 26: Begun This Clone War Has

**Chapter 26**  
_Begun This Clone War Has…_

Obi-Wan struggled not to flinch away as a clone medic applied a layer of Bacta ointment to the lightsaber burn on his upper arm. He sat tensely on his assigned medical cot on board a Star Destroyer as he waited for his treatment to be finished. It felt like it took forever though he knew it probably only took five minutes at the most. When it was finally over, he sank back against the stiff medical cot in relief.

Off to the side Vader lay on another cot utterly dead to the world. After Obi-Wan had forced him deep into unconsciousness, he'd convinced the clone medic placed in charge of their care to keep the young man heavily sedated. The clone had obediently done so and it was now highly unlikely that Vader would awaken until after receiving treatment.

Just as the medic was leaving their room to treat other patients brought aboard this ship, Master Windu and Master Yoda appeared. Both Masters were uninjured but looked worse for wear. Master Yoda seemed to have aged centuries in barely more than a day and Master Windu looked especially grim.

"Greetings Obi-Wan," Yoda sighed as he struggled to climb up on a nearby stool so that he could converse more comfortably.

"How are you feeling?" Master Windu inquired politely.

"Sore," Obi-Wan replied wryly, "but I should survive."

"Good, good," Yoda nodded, laying his gnarled cane across his lap.

"What of young Vader?" Windu asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Obi-Wan admitted, "I'd like him to stay sedated until he can get more than basic field treatment. But I don't think he realizes how badly he's been hurt." Before either master could speak, Obi-Wan asked a question that had been bothering him since the Jedi intervened during the Geonosian execution. "Why was he even there anyway?"

"I offered him passage off-planet but he refused. He wished to stay and participate in your rescue." Master Windu explained.

"He refused?" Obi-Wan repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes, he did, so I assigned him the responsibility of bringing you another lightsaber." Windu confirmed.

"Oh," Obi-Wan murmured, stroking his beard with his uninjured arm. "So what's next?" He asked finally.

"To Anida we are taking the injured," Master Yoda informed him. "High quality medical facilities they have there."

"After you are treated, Senator Amidala has invited you to Naboo to recover before returning to full duty." Master Windu added.

"She has?" Obi-Wan glanced towards his unconscious 'Padawan'. "If I accept, am I allowed to bring him with me?"

"Yes, insist on his inclusion we did. Reluctant the Senator was, but agree to it she did." Master Yoda replied. "Accept this invitation, you do?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded.

"We shall inform the Senator of your decision then," Master Windu bowed and headed for the door.

"May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan," Master Yoda sighed, dropping off the stool to the floor and hobbling away.

"And may the Force be with you, Masters," Obi-Wan called softly after them.

As the two masters stepped through the doorway and out into the corridor, Obi-Wan caught a fragment of their conversation.

"…tragedy it is. Begun this Clone War has. Survive it–"

The door snapped shut, cutting off whatever else Master Yoda was saying. Troubled, Obi-Wan tried to settle back onto his cot and get some sleep. However sleep was very difficult to find.

* * *

At some point, Vader became aware of bright sunlight burning through his closed eyelids. After a while, it became annoying enough that he threw an arm over his face to block it. Though the arm on his face felt…odd somehow. Cool. Hard. Definitely not normal. But he was too sleepy to really care.

Then he was aware of a headache. A dull but strong throb inside his skull that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He tried to hide from it, tried to ignore it, but it was no use. It drove him to full consciousness and he really wished it hadn't.

His mouth felt thick and dry. His throat was no better. His head hurt even worse now, and the stabbing sunlight only aggravated it further. And it wasn't just his head, everything was sore. Then there was his hand and part of his right arm, it tingled like it was asleep.

With an incoherent groan, he somehow managed to roll off the bed he'd been sprawled out on and slid to the floor. He blinked dazedly, trying to get his vision to focus, but had little success. Desperate for a drink to clear out his mouth and needing to use a refresher, he staggered upright and blurrily stumbled around in search of some facilities.

He staggered out of whatever room he had been in, out into some hall, and down the hall until he came across an open door that led into a refresher. Tripping slightly over the threshold he clutched at the sink to steady himself. His right hand didn't seem to work right and it made an odd clanging sound against the porcelain sink basin. Ignoring the strangeness for the moment, he awkwardly pulled the door closed behind him to insure privacy and leaned against a wall for a while to wait out a dizzy spell.

When it didn't feel like the floor was rolling under his feet, he groped for the sink, got the water running, and splashed a few handfuls of it over his face. The cool clean liquid washed away some of the thick fog in his head. It also washed some of the grit from his eyes, making it easier to keep his eyes open. And as his vision cleared up, he found he didn't like what he saw.

He looked like death warmed over. He obviously hadn't shaved in a few days. Nor, it seemed, had he showered. He was dressed in nothing but his underwear. And there was something very wrong with his hand.

His left hand was fine. No fingers missing, properly pink, no bandages, nothing out of the ordinary. His right hand, however, was an entirely different story.

From a point just a few inches below his elbow his arm just stopped. At that point, where the flesh stopped, metal started. There was a brassy cylindrical base from which a crude mechanical imitation of the human skeletal forearm and hand sprouted. And as he stared at it in mute horror in the mirror, he saw it move.

The fingers contracted jerkily into a loose fist. Uncomfortable prickles stabbed at nerves that were no longer there. As the fingers and joints shifted, he could hear the whine of servo-motors. Where the metal of the mechanical hand touched flesh, he felt cold.

A wave of nausea hit him hard. He coughed and gagged but nothing came up except a sour taste. Shaking uncontrollably he sank to the icy tile floor and hugged his legs to his chest. But when the false right hand touched his leg, he flinched and forced it away. He started to hyperventilate a little bit.

_What the kriffin' Hell happened to my hand! Where am I! What's going on! Where's Obi-Wan! What–_

There was a muffled string of whistles and beeps and then the door creaked open. On the other side a blue and white Astromech peered inside. It let out another string of binary chirps; this set contained a tone of worry in them. Half-blinded by panic, Vader wasn't certain if he recognized this particular droid.

"A-Artoo?" He croaked in a weak whimper.

Artoo wobbled back and forth a bit while whistling an affirmative.

Vader clenched his teeth and fought to get his brain working properly. There were a billion questions swirling around in his brain but he couldn't ask most of them. Artoo could only answer yes or no questions or follow commands. There was no chance of getting much detailed information from the Astromech.

"Is…is Obi-Wan around?" He asked finally.

Artoo chirped a yes.

"Could you get him for me?" Vader asked meekly.

Artoo gave him another affirmative and extended his third leg to wheel off and do as requested.

"Wait! Wait," Vader interrupted. When Artoo paused and warbled questioningly, he continued. "I-I changed my mind. Could you, um, find me my clothes?"

Artoo readily agreed to do that instead, and from the sound of it, the little droid was laughing at him as it wheeled away.

With a shaky sigh, Vader lurched unsteadily to his feet and shut the door again. Making a conscious effort to ignore his right hand, he wrestled with his braid, fumbling and cursed as he untied it with his left hand. Once he managed to accomplish that, he made use of the shower.

The warm water was both refreshing and calming. It washed away most of the lingering aches he felt and lessened the throb of his headache. And as long as he kept his right hand at his side and out of sight, he could mostly forget about it, and that helped a great deal. By the time he felt sufficiently clean and human again, he had also calmed down enough to think back on what had happened and try to figure what the heck was going on now.

As he toweled dry with some ridiculously soft fluffy towels, he again wondered just where the Hell he was. Such frilly, fluffy towels seemed to indicate that he was in a female's house, or maybe just a really rich person. And Artoo was here. And Obi-Wan too.

_Well, this isn't the Temple, the refresher it way too nice. Not Tatooine either, there'd be sand everywhere. Not Geonosis, there'd probably be sand everywhere too, just a different color. So…either somewhere on Coruscant or Naboo…maybe._

A tap at the door and a cheerful whistle indicated Artoo's return. Vader cracked open the door and gratefully took the pile of clothing the Astromech balanced on his head. From the looks of it, the little droid had managed to bring everything but his boots.

"Thanks Artoo," Vader grinned, "you're the best. Why don't you go bug Obi-Wan now?"

Artoo made a sort of chuckling sound and scurried off to do as he was told.

Vader snickered a little and got dressed. Or at least he tried to. He was pained to realize just how much he used his right hand. While he could get his pants and tunics on one-handed, he couldn't do his belt. Clenching his teeth tightly, he brought his right, ugly, shiny skeleton hand up to fumble with his evil belt buckle.

After about five minutes he was ready to put the Sith-spawned mechanical prosthetic through the wall. Now that he was paying attention to it, the stupid limb tingled and prickled continuously. And every time he got the fingers to flex it was like dipping the damaged nerve endings in acid.

But his stubbornness prevailed. He got the damned thing fastened correctly and sighed in relief. Then he glanced into the mirror over the sink and scowled. _Now all I have to do is shave, do my hair, and find my boots…and my lightsaber._

Still scowling, he rifled around for a razor. After finding one, he set himself to the tricky task of shaving left-handed. The Force was with him, thankfully, and he didn't cut himself open while struggling to remove the stubble from his face. Roughly three days worth of growth, he noted.

_How long have I been out of it?_ Vader wondered as he rinsed off his face. _And **why** have I been out of it? Somehow I doubt I'd sleep through getting this monstrosity attached,_ he thought as he glared at the offending mechanical appendage.

_Well, lemme back-track a little bit here,_ he decided, leaning against the edge of the sink, staring down at the metallic drain. _Padmé dragged me off to Geonosis to help Obi-Wan. Bad idea. We got caught and separated. I had to save the both of them in the execution arena. Then Obi-Wan and I chased down Dooku. Not smart. I got pissed off and charged Dooku. Really stupid. Obi-Wan got cut up keeping Dooku off me and I had to save him. Again. I did okay for a little while, but then Dooku…damn it! The old bastard cut off my hand!_

Vader fumed for a minute or two before shaking himself out of it. _So, what happened after that?_ He asked himself. _I…I think I hit my head. There might have been more fighting, but…who was still in shape to fight? I was out, Obi-Wan was out… Somebody else must've showed up…I guess. Then…then I think that…maybe I might've started to wake up. And…_

He went very still as an icy chill rushed through him. _Force damn you Obi-Wan! You know better!_ Vader cursed, trembling. _I oughta track you down and smack you across the face for that! With my right hand!_ But he didn't track the older man down, nor did he smack him with his metal hand. He just trembled and mentally raged for a little while.

When he managed to calm himself down, he glanced at the counter near the sink where he'd left the ties for his hair and the strings for his braid. Then he glanced down at his prosthetic hand and sighed in despair. There was no way he could braid his own hair with that hand. He doubted he could even do the simple ponytail.

Wilting under a heavy wave of humiliation, Vader gathered up the ties and strings and slunk out of the refresher in search of Obi-Wan. Thankfully he didn't have to look too hard to find the Jedi. All he had to do was follow the faint sounds of Artoo's electronic whistles and squeals.

Peering into the nicely decorated bedroom where Obi-Wan was located, he found that Artoo had taken his last order: 'go bug Obi-Wan', to heart. The little droid rolled back and forth over the floor beside Obi-Wan's bed and chirped some binary nonsense incessantly. Obi-Wan looked angrier than Vader had ever seen him, his eyes fixed on the parading droid, unblinking. Vader didn't know whether to laugh or to cringe.

Eventually, he just decided to get Artoo to stop. He padded up behind the Astromech and knocked a few times against his sensor dome with his left fist. "Hey Artoo, give it a rest." He sighed. "Do me a favor and try to find me my boots, will ya?"

Artoo obligingly stopped tormenting the Jedi Knight and left the room to find Vader's missing boots. Vader stared after the Astromech before anxiously turning to look over at Obi-Wan. The Jedi Knight looked furious, but that expression quickly dissolved into one that turned Vader's stomach. Pity.

Swallowing hard he forced himself to walk over to Obi-Wan's bedside and speak. "Sorry 'bout that. Didn't think Artoo'd take me that seriously." It was a lame excuse. Of course Artoo would take him seriously. He was a droid after all, not a human being. The next part was harder, almost physically painful, to say.

"I…I can't…do my hair… Could you…" He trailed off, praying he wouldn't be forced to actually complete that last sentence.

"Of course," Obi-Wan replied softly, "sit down."

Staring fixedly at the thickly carpeted floor, Vader obeyed, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. He passed over the hairs ties and strings and impatiently waited for Obi-Wan to finish. As he waited, what felt suspiciously like tears burned at the back of his eyes. If that was indeed what they were, he refused to let them fall.

As Obi-Wan was finishing up, finally, Vader pulled himself together to ask a question. "Where are we?"

"The Theed Royal Palace on Naboo. Both Senator Amidala and Queen Jamilla have graciously allowed us to stay here for a few weeks before returning to the Temple." Obi-Wan answered quietly as he tied off the last colored string.

"Thanks," Vader grunted tightly, almost leaping off the edge of the bed to put some distance between them.

"You're welcome." Obi-Wan replied.

Vader fought not to flinch. He didn't want pity. He didn't want sympathy. He just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. But that wasn't going to happen, which made it worse.

Thankfully, Artoo returned, clutching Vader's boots in one of his mechanical claws. Welcoming the distraction, Vader strode over to the Astromech. He took his boots, yanked them on, and hurried for the door.

"I'm going for a walk," he declared, striding away quickly enough to miss any reply Obi-Wan might've given him.

Hopefully a nice long walk would clear his head, calm him down. Or maybe it'd just find him a place to curl up and cry alone for a while. Either way, it would get him away from Obi-Wan and his pitying looks and sympathetic words…


	28. 27: Discoveries

**Chapter 27**  
_Discoveries_

Vader had no idea where he'd walked in the Palace. He just stormed around the halls, not really seeing his surroundings. If he ran into any of the Palace staff, he simply didn't see them.

But somehow at some point he ended up leaving the Palace entirely and found his way into the Royal Gardens. He wandered aimlessly, blindly, through the winding paths lined with elegant-looking native plants. Only when he almost walked into a stone pillar did he stop moving and really look around at where he was.

It was a shady, secluded area. Tall trees blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving only slender rays and beams to illuminate the place. The path he'd been following had dead-ended here in a rough circle of tall evergreen bushes. At the center of that circle was the stone pillar thing he'd almost crashed face-first into.

_What the heck is this thing doing out here?_ He wondered sourly as he examined it. A closer inspection revealed that it wasn't a pillar exactly. It was more like a small monument, a tall slender pyramid carved from pure white stone. The base and lower third of it was swathed in a thick, leafy, creeping vine of some sort.

Vader scowled at the white stone spire and turned to leave the little corner of the garden, but then stopped. He'd been halted long enough by his near collision to have calmed down slightly. And in that slightly calmer state he thought he'd felt a ripple in the Force. It didn't signify danger, just something different, special.

Puzzled, he glanced back at the hidden monument. A light mental nudge at the area confirmed it. The white stone and the area around was unusually strong in the Force. It shone to him like an especially bright star in a clear night sky. It was almost familiar in a way.

Curious now, Vader walked over to crouch in front of the obelisk. Carefully he pulled away the leafy vines that wrapped around the base to try and see if anything was hidden underneath. There was.

The monument bore an elaborate inscription in a flowing script that was difficult to read. It was certainly very pretty, just like everything else he'd seen on Naboo. But when he finally deciphered what it said, he felt a lump of ice form in his stomach. It looked an awful lot like a grave marker and the person it seemed to be dedicated to was someone he knew.

"Are you alright?" A soft voice asked.

Vader almost jumped out of his skin, he hadn't heard anyone approach. He twisted around and looked behind him to see one of the Royal Handmaidens standing there. She peered out from under her cloak at him with concern.

"I'm fine," Vader frowned, turning away to stare at the disconcerting monument. "What…what is this place?"

"This is a section of the Royal Gardens that Queen Amidala dedicated in memory of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn." The Handmaiden replied.

Vader went from crouching to sitting cross-legged in front of the memorial. His head was spinning and he felt a little bit disconnected. "Oh," he mumbled.

There was the sound of swishing fabric and the Handmaiden was kneeling beside him. "Are you sure you are alright?"

"I'll be okay," Vader mumbled, dazed. Judging by the dates etched into the white stone, Master Jinn had fallen sometime shortly after leaving Tatooine.

"But are you okay _now_?" She asked.

"I…don't know." He shrugged. "What happened?"

"You don't know?" The Handmaiden asked. "Knight Kenobi did not tell you?"

"Why would he tell me?" Vader blinked. _I never asked about Master Jinn, so why would he tell me anything?_

"Well, Master Jinn was his master. Obi-Wan was there when it happened." She replied.

Vader stared at her, dumbfounded. …_Say what?_

"You didn't know that?" She frowned.

"No," Vader managed after a long pause. "He never said anything about his former Master."

"I suppose the wounds are still too fresh for him then," she remarked quietly. "He was devastated when Master Jinn died. Some of us worried he'd never recover."

"Who…are you?" Vader blinked.

"I am Sabé. I have served as a Royal Handmaiden since Amidala's reign." Sabé answered. She studied him for a moment before asking him a question. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"No," Vader shrugged. _What does **that **have to do with anything?_

"Well then," she stood up and dusted her skirt off, "come with me and I will get you some lunch."

"But…I'm not hungry." Vader mumbled.

"I don't want to hear it. You haven't eaten anything in several days. I will not be responsible for a Jedi Padawan keeling over because he didn't have the sense to eat his lunch." She declared sternly. "Now come on," she commanded, holding out her hand to help him up.

Vader lacked the strength or desire to argue with her so he caved. He reached up to take her hand, but too late realized he'd used his right hand. The creepy golden thing made him shiver and hesitate. Sabé paused only slightly before taking him by his metal wrist and half-pulling him to his feet.

"Come, I'll get the cooks to whip something up for you." Sabé smiled slightly and led him back towards the Palace.

"Yes ma'am," Vader replied meekly as he trailed after her.

He wasn't hungry. But he really didn't feel like arguing anymore. So he just followed along like a good little boy. _Best to go with the flow…_

_

* * *

_

Obi-Wan stared up at the ceiling of his room and sighed. Painted above him was an intricate mural of some Naboo landscape, probably centuries old. In fact everything around him was probably that old. From the finely crafted furniture to the art the hung on the walls, everything was very beautiful and very old. And it all made Obi-Wan feel rather uncomfortable.

His missed his small, comfortable quarters in the Jedi Temple. While the décor of his home was dull in comparison to this room that the Queen had granted him for his stay in the Palace, his own apartment didn't give him the feeling of sleeping in a museum exhibit. Everything was so opulent and expensive-looking, Obi-Wan almost feared his more humble simple presence would tarnish the place somehow.

But at the moment, he was more concerned with Vader than his overly-fancy accommodations. The young man had suffered a devastating injury at the hands of the man he'd been trying to hide from for years. And from what Obi-Wan had seen so far today, Vader wasn't coping very well with it.

_At least he's not curled up in a dark corner somewhere babbling gibberish,_ Obi-Wan tried to console himself. It didn't work so well. In fact, it didn't work at all.

Earlier he'd felt the young man's distress and had almost disregarded his doctor's orders to stay in bed today to go to him. But Vader, it seemed, had managed to pull himself together long enough to go through most of his morning routine, despite the fact that it was closer to noon than dawn.

Then there was the trouble Vader had had with his hair. The boy had always been mostly self-sufficient. He very rarely asked for help, and was always very embarrassed when he did have to seek assistance. And to ask for help braiding his hair, a simple task that he had done every day unaided for years, had to be utterly humiliating for him.

And then there was an unknown. Did Vader know that he had slipped past the barriers of his mind while he had been incapacitated? Ever since the incident in the lift before meeting with the Council all those years ago, Obi-Wan had been careful not to do more than lightly brush against Vader's outer shields. He had respected the bounds of the younger man's mind, never violating it once. But if he remembered–

"Good afternoon Obi-Wan," Padmé greeted, breezing into the room with a tray. "I brought you some lunch."

"Thank you Milady," Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't felt her coming.

"It is no problem Obi-Wan. And you don't have to call me 'Milady' right now. You're on break and we're both friend here, aren't we?" Padmé smiled, depositing the lunch tray beside the Jedi on the bed.

"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan nodded with a faint smile.

"Good, so it's just 'Padmé' for the rest of your stay." The Senator declared. "Now enjoy your lunch."

"I shall," Obi-Wan replied agreeably, but he paused before he ate anything. "What about my Padawan?"

Padmé's lips thinned in obvious distaste. "Don't worry Obi-Wan, Sabé is taking care of him. Last I heard, she'd dragged him off to the kitchens to get something to eat."

Reassured that Vader was being looked after, Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and began consuming his lunch. As he ate, he sensed Padmé watching him. It seemed she had a thing or two to ask him.

Just as Obi-Wan was finishing up, Padmé started the questioning. "So when did Vader become you Padawan?" She asked curiously. "I didn't even know you had a Padawan."

"About four years ago he was in need of a Master and I accepted the position." Obi-Wan replied, aiming for a vague sort of truthfulness.

"Why?" Padmé asked.

"Why did I accept?" Obi-Wan wondered. When she nodded 'yes', he looked off to the side thoughtfully before answering. "It's hard to say," he sighed finally. "He needed someone to look after him and I had no pressing assignments at the time. He requested me and I had no real reason to refuse him."

"_He_ chose _you_?" Padmé blinked.

"Yes. It's uncommon but not unheard of for a Youngling or orphaned Padawan to request a Knight or Master to take them on as an apprentice." Obi-Wan explained. "I myself asked Qui-Gon on several separate occasions to take me on as a Padawan before he relented."

"Really?" Padmé almost gasped, shocked that such a talented Jedi had had to beg his Master to take him on and train him.

"Yes, really. Most of the Knights and Masters who were looking to take on a Padawan saw me as too hard-headed or otherwise unsuitable to continue training." Obi-Wan explained, almost chuckling at her growing shock.

"But…you're one of the best Knights in the Order!" She sputtered.

"Back then my potential was not very apparent, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan shrugged stiffly, his right arm giving a slight twinge.

"So what were you like back then?" Padmé asked, clearly curious.

"Well," Obi-Wan mused, setting the lunch tray aside. "I was younger, for one." He began seriously, causing Padmé to giggle slightly and roll her eyes. "Less disciplined, less obedient, more outspoken…" Obi-Wan trailed off. "Basically I think a very watered down version of Vader without the explicit vocabulary." He decided finally.

"Oh?" Padmé arched an eyebrow. "A Jedi troublemaker?"

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand over his face to cover his light embarrassment. "Could we please discuss something other than my misspent youth?" He asked hopefully. Her amused, yet determined expression dashed his hopes. _Oh Blast…_

_

* * *

_

Vader felt like he was going to snap. Again. He'd lost his hand. He was mad at Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was suddenly dead, and had been dead for years. And now he had a headache, he was being babysat by a Royal Handmaiden, and he was having serious issues getting the food she pressed on him to his mouth.

He felt pulled in several opposing directions at once. Frustration and the discomfort brought on by his ugly, clumsy prosthetic hand burned in his stomach. His head throbbed and once or twice he felt swamped by odd waves of dizzying exhaustion. And, while he knew she meant well, Sabé's attempts at engaging him in conversation made him want to throttle her. He was in no mood for idle chatter.

As much as he despised to admit it, he needed some help. If he didn't manage to get his head in check he could end up doing or saying something that he'd really regret later. Vader knew he needed to do some meditation and he also knew that in his current state there was no way he'd be able to do it. Obi-Wan could help him though.

Stuffing the last slice of some fruit Sabé had given him in his mouth he made up his mind. Before she could try and feed him more, he got up from the small table in the servants' dining room and headed back towards the Palace's guest wing where Obi-Wan was. Sabé did her best to keep him right where he was.

"Where are you going?" She asked, gliding to his side.

"To talk to Obi-Wan." Vader replied tensely.

"Are you sure you've gotten enough to eat?" The Handmaiden inquired, concerned.

"Yes," Vader almost growled. _Stop following me!_

Sabé followed him silently for a few minutes before slowing her pace. "Unfortunately I have other duties to attend to Padawan Vader," she apologized. "If you require my assistance at any time all you need do is ask."

"Don't worry I will," Vader sighed, grateful when the Handmaiden drifted off elsewhere in the Palace to do whatever it was that Royal Handmaidens did all day.

Vader strode on towards Obi-Wan's room. He was half-guided by memory and half-guided by the Jedi's presence in the Force. As he drew nearer to his goal, he heard the indistinct buzz of two very different voices conversing. It seemed Obi-Wan had a visitor.

Just before reaching the doorway and still out of sight of the occupants of the room, Vader paused briefly to listen and see just who was chatting with Obi-Wan. His visitor just happened to be Senator Padmé Amidala. And they seemed to be having an almost cheerful conversation together.

A tight sour sensation knotted up in his stomach and his jaw clenched tightly. What the heck was she doing in there cheering Obi-Wan up? _He_ was the one who'd lost his _right hand_ and part of his _arm_! Obi-Wan just got a few measly cuts on his arm and leg. That was nothing! Certainly nothing compared to actually _losing_ _a limb_!

_But she doesn't like me,_ Vader recalled, swallowing hard. _She's probably scared of me, especially after that Dark Side episode…_ The tension in his muscles eased and the beginnings of despair seeped in. _Obi-Wan's her friend, not me. Not anymore…_

"Oh? A Jedi troublemaker?" He heard Padmé remark in an odd tone of voice.

_Are they talking about me?_ Vader wondered dully as he leaned against the hallway wall.

"Could we please discuss something other than my misspent youth?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding part hopeful, part desperate.

_Wait…'Jedi troublemaker'…Obi-Wan…'misspent youth'…?_ Vader blinked, struggling to wrap his head around this information. Slowly, cautiously, Vader edged along the wall the peer through the doorway at Padmé and Obi-Wan. Poor Obi-Wan seemed to be silently pleading Padmé to not discuss this 'misspent youth' and Padmé wasn't letting him off.

Vader found himself smirking at Obi-Wan's misfortune. He silently padded into the room and took a seat at the end of Obi-Wan's bed. Neither Obi-Wan nor Padmé noticed his entrance, both still locked in a mute staring contest.

Obi-Wan looked rather pathetic as he lay half-upright in his large comfy bed silently begging the Senator to not inquire further. Padmé just stared back at him, amused but determined, as she sat regally in a chair pulled up to the bedside. They probably would've stared for hours, but Vader lacked the patience to wait for them to continue on their own. So he kick-started things.

"'Misspent youth', Master?" Vader asked innocently. Both of them flinched and spun to face him in surprise. Vader grinned rather wickedly. The look on poor Knight Kenobi's face was priceless as he sensed that his 'Padawan' had turned against him. "Do tell!"


	29. 28: Frustration and Shame

**Chapter 28**  
_Frustration and Shame_

Vader was fascinated with what he was hearing. He had no idea that Obi-Wan could be so…interesting. In a few hours he learned more about the Jedi then he had in a little over four years.

Some of it was shocking. Like the fact that Obi-Wan had almost not become a Jedi. That Qui-Gon had repeatedly rejected his pleas to become his Padawan. And that later Obi-Wan had almost had his memory erased.

Some of it was funny. The stories about his exploits as a young Initiate were amusing, bordering on hilarious. His friends sounded fun and he wondered why Obi-Wan had never taken him to meet them. And one account of how Obi-Wan had _dared_ talk back to Master Yoda during class actually made Vader chuckle a bit.

However, as Obi-Wan reluctantly continued telling tales of his 'misspent youth', Vader found that his eyelids were growing heavy. He tried to keep his focus on Obi-Wan, he really did. But it was just so _hard_ and the bed he was sitting on was so _soft_. He closed his eyes – just for a moment, really! – and then he didn't remember much of anything for a while…

* * *

Padmé was just as fascinated as Vader was. And she was more open about showing it. She had shifted to sitting on the edge of her chair and whenever something she found funny came up, she giggled. All in all, she felt that Obi-Wan's story-telling hour was an hour very well spent. Who knew that such a proper, formal Jedi Knight could've had such an interesting and colorful past?

But as he came up to a particular mission, one he said was to a system called Melida/Daan, he grew very quiet. Padmé sensed that his reluctance in discussing this particular incident was different than the rest. He wasn't just embarrassed by this. It was almost like he was ashamed of it. Padmé decided to stop pressing him for information. She had learned more than enough for today.

"Well thank you for sharing Obi-Wan," she smiled. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Obi-Wan replied dryly, clearly relieved that he didn't have to share his misadventures anymore. Then he glanced over at the foot of the bed and looking slightly concerned. "Oh dear."

Padmé frowned and followed his gaze to see Vader out cold. He was slumped half on, half off the bed and sideways in a position that didn't look particularly comfortable. But considering the rather peaceful relaxed expression on his sleeping face, it must've worked for him.

"He sleeps for three days straight and then what does he do? He sleeps some more." Padmé snorted softly.

"It's really not that surprising," Obi-Wan sighed softly, sadly. "This past week was especially stressful for him."

Padmé nodded in mute agreement. _I certainly didn't help matters,_ she reluctantly admitted to herself. She was aware that she hadn't been a very easy person to guard. Her almost endless anxiety and preoccupation with her situation had gotten on his nerves and her attitude towards him hadn't helped matters either.

After the battle had wound down on Geonosis and she'd found out about what had happened to Obi-Wan and Vader she'd felt guilty. Guilty of ever accusing or insinuating that Vader cared nothing for his Master. You didn't give up your right arm for someone who meant nothing to you.

Feeling uncomfortable at just looking at the way Vader was napping, Padmé sighed and set about fixing it. She carefully levered his lower half up onto the bed, cursing her petite slender frame as she strained under his weight. After arranging him in a more comfortable position, she pulled his boots off, and nodded in satisfaction. Vader hadn't stirred a bit throughout.

"There," Padmé teasingly dusted off her hands. "Now Obi-Wan," she turned back to the Knight, "I'll be back in a few hours with dinner."

"Thank you Padmé," Obi-Wan smiled weakly in gratitude.

"It is no problem Obi-Wan," Padmé replied as she exited. "Anything for a friend."

* * *

It was dark, but that was okay, because it was warm and safe. It was a nice place and he didn't want to leave it. Leaving it would mean he would have to face pain and deal with uncomfortable things. He didn't feel up for that. So he just stayed in the dark safe place.

But then he was aware of a nudging. The sensation threatened to drive him out of the nice dark place, so he resisted it, ignored it. The nudging was persistent though. It refused to leave him in peace. And then, as if the nudging wasn't bad enough, a voice joined it.

He tried to just focus on the voice and ignore the annoying poking. The voice was nice. It was calm and gentle and almost musical. Maybe if he just put all his attention on it, it would soothe him back into the deep part of the nice dark place like the way his mother's lullabies used to. Instead, it just woke him up more.

"Wake up," the voice coaxed, "you've slept long enough. Wake up."

"Ngh," Vader grunted as he vaguely recalled that he had a voice too.

"Come now young one," the voice chuckled, "it's nearly dinner time."

"Mmn?" Vader grumbled, cracking one eye open. Everything was fuzzy.

"That's it," the voice – Obi-Wan – smiled slightly. The poking stopped.

"Wha' time isit?" Vader mumbled into the bedcovers.

"Nearly six in the evening," Obi-Wan replied after glancing at some wall chrono off to the left.

"Huh?" Vader blinked sleepily as the haze in his head began to recede. Last he knew, it had been around noon.

"You fell asleep," Obi-Wan shrugged. "Dinner should be served shortly."

"Dinner?" Vader repeated stupidly. "But…I just had lunch."

"It only seems that way." Obi-Wan replied gently. "You've been out for hours."

"Oh," Vader blinked.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and started to rub the sleep from his eyes. But when his right hand touched his face, the cold metal of the prosthetic made him jump. Rattled and feeling vaguely ill, he forced the cursed golden thing down to his side and used only his left hand.

Obi-Wan noticed his discomfort and looked about ready to say something when the door, which had been closed at some point, swung open to admit Padmé and a Handmaiden who wasn't Sabé. Each carried a tray laden with whatever dinner was that night. Padmé brought her tray to Obi-Wan while the Handmaiden – that Vader now recognized as Dormé – came over to serve him.

The meal looked like it could've been ordered from a fancy high-class restaurant. It included a small roll, a few interesting-looking vegetables, and a juicy steak of some kind drenched in a thick honey-like sauce. Despite the fact that it seemed like he'd just eaten lunch, the sight of this food made him suddenly realize that he was absolutely starving.

"The cooks' best Shaak steak," Padmé declared. "Enjoy gentlemen."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied politely.

Vader only briefly nodded his thanks, he was too hungry to waste time with words. If it bothered them, he could always express some verbal gratitude later. After he ate.

Eagerly he grabbed his fork and knife, ready to dive into dinner. Then his fork promptly slipped right out of his grip, clattering noisily against the tray. Vader cringed and mentally kicked himself for forgetting the hideous golden thing that now served as his right hand.

After a pause he swallowed hard, clenched his teeth in determination, and tried again. This time he managed to hold onto the utensil long enough to make an attempt at cutting the steak. But despite the tender meat, he couldn't keep his grip firm enough to cut it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get a single piece cut and it frustrated him to no end.

Somewhere around the point when he felt he might explode, things got infinitely worse. Padmé's slender hands appeared to come out of nowhere and gently clasped his shiny golden wrist. A prickly feeling of dread crept up his spine as he slowly looked up from his plate. Sure enough, he saw what he feared he'd see: pity.

"Let me help," she murmured softly.

Vader couldn't decide what he wanted to do more. Strangle her or curl up and die. But he did neither. Instead he chose the third way. He relinquished his silverware and turned to stare at some spot on the floor near the doorway. He refused to look back until she'd finished cutting up his steak for him.

"Thanks," he muttered stiffly and with effort after she had finished.

The steak, which had looked so tasty before, now tasted bland and chewy. Even though he felt hungry, it took effort to eat it. And the rest of the food was no better. By the time he'd finished, he almost felt sick.

"Why don't you go out onto the balcony and get some fresh air." While it was phrased as a suggestion, Obi-Wan's tone made it clear that it was an order.

Vader gave a terse nod and all but fled the room. He strode out onto the small balcony that bordered Obi-Wan's guest room and did his best the crush the stone railing with his bare hands. His frustration and shame threatened to choke him or worse, make him cry. If he had a choice in the matter, he'd rather choke.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed wearily as Vader stormed out onto the balcony. On the one hand, he was glad that they had been invited to stay here for a while. Had they gone straight back to the Temple, Vader would probably be put under even more stress than he already was and that ran the risk of triggering a Dark Side slip. But on the other hand, not being at the Temple meant it was all but impossible to get advice from any more experienced Jedi in how to deal with and help Vader adjust to his situation.

"What's the matter with him?" The Handmaiden, Dormé, wondered.

"He's always been self-sufficient," Obi-Wan explained. "Needing help with simple tasks that he could always do in the past is very upsetting to him."

Dormé nodded, but it was clear she didn't entirely understand. She probably thought that Vader was being childish and blowing things out of proportion. She said no more about it though.

"Come Milady, let's clear these dishes away and give Jedi Kenobi and his Padawan a little peace." Dormé suggested cheerily.

"Hm?" Padmé blinked. "Oh, yes, of course."

Each woman gathered up an empty tray and made for the exit. Dormé quickly disappeared, but Padmé lingered for a moment. She stared at the balcony door with an unreadable expression before following Dormé out of the room.

Now alone, Obi-Wan slumped down against the headboard of the bed. He suddenly felt very old and very tired. But rest was the last thing he could afford to do right now. Gathering up his focus, he carefully reached out to see how Vader was doing.

He hadn't felt such emotional turmoil from the boy in years. There was anger there and frustration. And there was also deep shame, pain, grief, anxiety, and probably a few other things that Obi-Wan couldn't quite name. But frustration and shame were the most dominant feelings at the moment.

Unwilling to upset the young man further by pressing at his mind to call him back, Obi-Wan decided to briefly disobey the Healer's orders. He very carefully and very stiffly climbed out of bed and limped painfully out to the balcony. Each step made his right leg twinge and burn slightly, but he ignored it.

_Some fresh air will so me some good anyway…_

_

* * *

_

Vader was so lost in his internal struggles that he failed to notice Obi-Wan join him. Only when the older man put a hand on his shoulder did he realize that he wasn't alone anymore. Flinching away from the touch, he almost struck out at the man on reflex. Almost.

"Enjoying the stars?" Obi-Wan asked politely. It was impossible to tell if he realized how close he'd come to getting smacked across the face.

"Huh?" Vader panted, glancing up the see that the stars were indeed out and shining brightly in the darkening night sky.

"I suppose not then," Kenobi shrugged. "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling just _great_!" Vader spat tensely, glaring over at the distant waterfalls.

"I thought as much," Obi-Wan sighed softly.

The Jedi Knight turned his gaze skyward and stared up at the glittering stars. What he was thinking, Vader couldn't even guess. So he didn't waste the energy trying. Instead he focused on waiting and gaining some kind of calm. That task alone was more than enough to occupy him.

When Obi-Wan was good and ready, he spoke again. "Let's go inside."

Vader nodded mutely and pried his fingers free of the balcony railing. He turned to follow Obi-Wan inside, but was held up by the fact that the Jedi was limping badly and so he was moving slowly. The false Jedi felt slightly worried seeing this, and just a little bit guilty. But Obi-Wan made it back to bed without incident and Vader found himself anxiously shifting from foot to foot as he tried to decide what to do with himself. Should he stay or should he go and leave Obi-Wan in peace?

"Sit down," Obi-Wan said quietly. Vader obeyed, his eyes fixed on the patterned bedcovers. "Now, how does your hand feel?" The Jedi asked.

"When…when I pay attention to it, it gets all tingly, like it's asleep." Vader replied reluctantly. "And when I…I make it move…it stings."

"That should pass in time," Obi-Wan tried to assure him. "Patience."

"It's always patience!" Vader grumbled bitterly.

"Yes, unfortunately." Obi-Wan sighed wryly.

There was an unbearable silence that Vader found himself compelled to break. "I don't like it," he mumbled childishly, "it's ugly." Obi-Wan made no comment and Vader found himself speaking again. "It looks like they ripped the hand off a skeleton and gold-plated it. Is this really the best they could do?" His voice wavered on the question.

"Yes," Obi-Wan murmured, "however, it could be worse."

"How can it be worse?" Vader snapped acidly.

"The prosthetic might have not been a human-shaped hand at all, but a more simplistic droid claw. Or they might not have been a mechanical prosthetic, period." The Jedi calmly pointed out.

Vader flexed the prosthetic, clenching his jaw against the discomfort and the disquieting sounds it made as it moved. "Why did I have to be so stupid?"

"Everyone makes mistakes." Obi-Wan reminded him.

"Should've realized he'd zap me like that. It was always his favorite thing to do." Vader mumbled. "But…I totally forgot about it."

"It has been a long time since you were exposed to him." Obi-Wan stated. "It's not surprising that your memory of him is not as clear as it once was."

"That's no excuse," Vader growled. "I should've waited instead of running in like a moron!"

"You're being too hard on yourself," Obi-Wan sighed. "What's done is done. Learn from the mistakes of the past, do not drown yourself in them."

The patterns on the bed sheets seemed to waver and run together as Vader stared at them. "I know, I know." His voice trembled and his throat felt oddly tight.

"Come here," Obi-Wan commanded gently.

Obediently, Vader crawled over the bed to kneel beside the Jedi, his blurry eyes fixed on the covers. Obi-Wan slipped a hand under his chin and forced his head up so they were eye-to-eye. Vader was briefly confused as Obi-Wan's face looked as blurry as the sheets had. Was there suddenly something wrong with his eyes now? Then Obi-Wan reached up with his other hand and rubbed at Vader's face with his sleeve. And Vader realized that he'd started crying.

With that realization, he crumbled. Letting out a choked, utterly pathetic sob, Vader slumped into Obi-Wan's shoulder and cried like a baby. He cried like he hadn't cried since the meltdown he'd had on the fringes of Coronet when Obi-Wan and Master Halcyon had tracked him down after his panicked escape from the hospital. He cried until he had no strength left and then calm peaceful darkness took him away…


	30. 29: Departing

**Chapter 29**  
_Departing_

It was their last day of vacation on Naboo and Obi-Wan was up before the sun rose, as usual. He stretched out, focusing mainly on his right arm and leg which were still a tad stiff and weak, and then went through some quick meditation. Feeling more awake he showered, dressed, and headed down to the Palace's private dining hall.

The private dining hall was used for everyday meals as opposed to the much larger formal dining hall which was meant for large feasts and formal state dinners. The table was set for breakfast with a small buffet table set up off to the side. Since it was so early, it was mainly the Palace staff that was present, bolting down a quick meal before hurrying off to work on their chores.

As Obi-Wan put together his plate, the various servants nodded and called out their greetings. Once he'd been cleared to leave his bed two days after arriving at the Palace he'd made it a habit to come down here for an early breakfast. His first appearance had startled the staff, but they'd quickly become accustomed to it. In fact, Obi-Wan thought that they felt flattered that he, a famous Jedi Knight, didn't mind sharing a meal with them, ordinary servants.

Just as Obi-Wan was starting on a sweet roll, he got an unexpected surprise. Vader dragged himself into the room a full hour before he was usually conscious. The young man didn't really look awake, but he'd shaved, showered, and dressed. After gathering up a few pieces of fruit and some pastries, he stumbled over to take a seat next to Obi-Wan.

"Well hello there," Obi-Wan blinked. "What are you doing up so early?"

"No idea," Vader grumbled sourly.

"You just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep?" Obi-Wan suggested.

"Yeah, basically." Vader mumbled, munching on some berries.

"Well that does give you more time to spend on Naboo before we leave." The Knight pointed out.

"Yeah," Vader sighed.

Silence fell between them and the half-awake younger man poured all his energy into eating breakfast. Obi-Wan quickly finished off his own breakfast, but made no move to leave the table. Instead, he spent the time waiting for Vader to finish to think.

After Vader's first day conscious after his injury, the boy had been unusually quiet, even meek. It seemed his crying fit had drained all the fire out of him, he hadn't acted up a bit or let slip a single foul word. Even Padmé had commented on his altered behavior.

Then there was the whole crying episode itself. To see a strong, independent, nineteen-year-old man with a mouth as foul as any hardened space pirate collapse in on himself like that was…disturbing. And after the tears had worn him out, Vader had passed out in his bed and clung to him all night like a frightened nine-year-old. Obi-Wan had a great deal of trouble getting any sleep that night.

In the morning, Vader had fled and disappeared to the Palace hanger for most of that day. After that, the young man reappeared, hovering around the fringes of Obi-Wan's presence. He said little unless directly spoken to and even then said as little as possible.

Over the course of their stay he had improved slightly, but Obi-Wan remained worried. Recently he had taken to typing on a datapad late in the evenings. What he was writing was a mystery, though it seemed to help him, so Obi-Wan didn't press.

"Is there anything you'd like to do before we leave Master?" Vader asked suddenly, jolting Obi-Wan out of his musings.

"Hmm? Well, I was thinking of making one last visit to the Gardens." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Okay," Vader mumbled.

The young man finished off his last sweet roll and gathered his used dishes together. Obi-Wan did the same and the two of them deposited their dishes in the proper bin. And then they ambled out of the dining room towards the Royal Gardens.

* * *

Vader trailed a few steps behind Obi-Wan as they wandered the Gardens. It was still quite early and the sun was still rising, making the sky a gradation of oranges and yellows. There were a few wisps of clouds high above, stained odd orangish-pink colors by the half-hidden sun. The air was pleasantly cool and filled with fragrance of the blossoming flowers and the songs of several local avian species. This morning had all the makings of a beautiful day.

For a solid two hours they wandered the paths of the Gardens. Sometimes Obi-Wan would pause to contemplate a patch of flowers, a bush, or a tree. Vader would patiently wait off to the side until the older man would move on. At the end of the two hours, they'd visited every corner of the Gardens except for one.

It was the same every time they took a good long walk out here. They would walk everywhere except down the one lonely path that led to the secluded corner where Master Jinn's memorial was located. Sometimes Obi-Wan would stop at the beginning of that trail and it looked like he thought about going down it, but he never did. And he was doing it again.

Obi-Wan stood at the head of the path and gazed over at the stand of ancient trees that sheltered the gravestone. After a long pause, he turned away and started to walk. Vader didn't let him get far.

Enough was enough. Obi-Wan was a grown man. A Jedi Knight that, rumor had it, was close to being promoted to Master. He couldn't run from the pains of his past forever. It was time he stopped.

Vader caught Obi-Wan by the sleeve and prevented him from taking another step. The Jedi blinked in surprise and turned back to look at Vader in question. Vader then wracked his brains in search of something to say that would draw the older man down the shadowy path.

"Why don't we go that way Master?" Vader asked innocently, glancing down the path. "We've never gone that way before."

He fought not to smirk as he watched Obi-Wan furiously think up some excuse to not go that way. But if he smirked, Obi-Wan would be clued in on the fact that Vader was purposefully dragging him down that particular path. So he kept his face innocently neutral and waited for Obi-Wan to give in.

"You're right," Obi-Wan sighed very, _very_ reluctantly. "Let's go see what's there."

Vader stomped down his sense of triumph as he followed the very reluctant and slow-moving Jedi down the narrow path. The closer they came to the sheltered little clearing, the slower Obi-Wan moved, but at least he kept moving. If he stopped, Vader feared he might have to physically push the older man along.

It never came to that. Eventually Obi-Wan made it to within a few steps of the white stone spire. Then he came to a stop. And then Vader couldn't help but feel his pain.

For what felt like hours Obi-Wan just stood there, staring and hurting. No words, no tears, nothing but staring. Vader stood by feeling helpless and just a tad guilty.

_What does one do in this sort of situation?_ Vader wondered. _Should I…say something? Do words even apply to this? Or…what?_

"The worst part was, I was only a few steps away and I could do nothing." Obi-Wan said suddenly, his voice soft and laced with a subtle tone of agony.

"Why couldn't you do anything?" Vader asked before he could stop himself.

"There was a force-field in the way." Obi-Wan replied. "It didn't shift in time for me to reach him." The feeling of grief rose, turning the serene shadowy clearing into something much darker, threatening, and depressing.

"Oh," Vader mumbled in a very small voice. The dirt under his boots was surprisingly fascinating.

"And when the barrier did shift…I lost my head and very nearly joined my Master in death." Obi-Wan continued softly.

"'lost your head?'" Vader blinked, peering up from the oh-so-fascinating dirt.

"Yes. I could feel him dying, yet I couldn't reach him, couldn't save him. And when I could get into the chamber, all I was focused on was destroying the Zabrak who had run my Master through. I lost my focus and let Darkness take me." The Knight murmured.

_Wait…is he admitting to what I **think** he's admitting to?_ Vader frowned, staring in confusion at Obi-Wan's back.

"I fell down a shaft, and he almost sent me to the bottom. But I recovered myself and sent him down to the bottom instead." Obi-Wan spoke so quietly now that Vader had to strain to hear him.

"So…you won?" Vader asked hesitantly.

"I suppose you could look at it that way." Obi-Wan sighed.

"You don't though?" Vader inquired.

"No. I allowed myself to forget my entire lifetime of training, I almost lost myself, and it did nothing to help my Master." Obi-Wan shrugged weakly.

"But you _remembered_ your training and you _didn't_ lose yourself." Vader pointed out.

"It doesn't matter." Obi-Wan shook his head. "It never should've happened."

Vader pressed his lips together in a thin line and stepped forward to stand at Obi-Wan's shoulder. "So what if you slipped? You didn't Fall. You turned away from the temptation and you triumphed." He scowled down at the ground, grasping for the words he needed to pull Obi-Wan out of this weird funk. "Had I been in your place, I wouldn't have been able to do that. I would've Fallen."

"No, I don't think so." Obi-Wan responded after a long pause.

"Oh, and why not?" Vader frowned, confused and curious. "According to the teachings of the Jedi, I am beyond hope and forever damned to Darkness."

"If you had been in my position with a background like mine, a real Jedi Padawan raised in the Temple, I believe you would've stayed true." Obi-Wan explained. "From all that I've seen of you, I believe that before Dooku began to teach you, you were a good boy. If you had been discovered at an early enough age, I have no doubt that the Temple would've accepted you and you would've made a fine young Jedi."

Really, who knew dirt was so very interesting? It certainly lessened the mysterious stinging at the backs of his eyes. "I was a good kid," Vader managed after a while. "But then life caught up with me. The galaxy outside the Temple, the real world, is no place for nice kids. Chews you up, spits you out, and leaves you to rot."

"You're being negative again," was all Obi-Wan had to say to that.

"Yeah," Vader swallowed. "Sure."

Obi-Wan said nothing more and Vader really didn't feel like trying to start up a conversation. They just stood there, lost in their own thoughts. Obi-Wan was probably thinking Jedi-ish thoughts, maybe still beating himself up a little bit over Qui-Gon dying. Vader was trying to deal with the idea that Obi-Wan had a very un-Jedi-like opinion of him.

To think that Obi-Wan, a real, traditional-minded Jedi Knight, thought that he, a secretive, foul-mouthed, Darksider, had been a good kid. It blew his mind! It didn't seem in any way remotely possible! And yet he had sensed nothing but sincerity when Obi-Wan had said it. That…that was really something.

A chime suddenly rang out, making Vader jump slightly. He glanced over to see Obi-Wan consulting a chronometer and looking mildly annoyed. The chime, it seemed, was an alarm. But an alarm for what? A holo-drama?

"One hour until our flight," Obi-Wan clarified upon sensing Vader's confusion.

Vader glanced up at the canopy of trees, surprised to see how bright the rays of light that poked through were. Was it that late already? Where had the time gone?

"Let's go," Obi-Wan sighed, turning away from the memorial. "We have just enough time left for lunch and good-byes."

Vader nodded mutely and followed…

* * *

Vader stood off to the side in the Palace hanger, near the boarding ramp of the ship that would take him and Obi-Wan back to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan was several meters away making formal good-byes to Queen Jamilla, Senator Amidala, and the Palace staff that had come to see them off. Vader fought not to fidget and wished Obi-Wan would hurry up.

While the Queen chatted with Obi-Wan, Vader noticed Padmé staring at him. He tried to ignore her, but he could practically _feel_ her focus pressing on him. It was times like these that he really hated being Force-sensitive. And then she came over to him.

"Letting your master say all the good-byes for you?" She asked.

"Yes," Vader shrugged, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Why?" She inquired.

"Obi-Wan's the famous one, the hero of the Blockade. I'm just a nobody sidekick." Vader replied, admiring one of the sleek, artsy Naboo Star-fighters that crouched in the distant shadows of the hanger. "There's no real reason for me to say anything to anyone here."

"You're not a 'nobody'," Padmé protested softly.

"Hmph," Vader grunted.

Padmé shifted anxiously and seemed to work up the nerve to say something. "I owe you an apology." She said at last, causing Vader to blink in surprise. "I was very unfair to you before Geonosis. I jumped to unfair and insulting conclusions and was very uncooperative with all your efforts… I'm sorry."

It was several minutes before Vader recovered his ability to speak. "It's alright, I understand." Padmé looked almost horrified at his dismissal and he hurried to cut her off before she could make a verbal protest. "You didn't know me or trust me, you were under a great deal of stress, and your friend was in danger. I understand why you did what you did. There is no need for forgiveness." He shrugged. "What's done is done and I hold no ill will towards you."

Padmé looked stunned, then her expression turned sad. "You're really something else, you know that?"

"So Master has told me on several occasions." Vader smirked humorlessly.

She smiled very weakly in response and Vader felt a slight twinge. "Take care of your Master for me." Padmé commanded. "And…take care of yourself." Then she gave him a little hug and a spontaneous peck on the cheek, before withdrawing to stand back beside the Queen.

Vader had to fight to not fall over, blush madly, stare after her as she walked away, or in any way react to the fact that she had ever-so-briefly kissed him. By some miracle he managed a façade of outward calm. Inside, however, he was a shuddering mess. _Holy kriffin' Hell she kissed me!_

Thankfully, at that moment Obi-Wan finished his farewells and headed for the ship. Struggling to hold himself together, Vader went to Obi-Wan's side. They paused and turned back to face the small crowd and give one last bow before walking up the boarding ramp.

Once aboard, Obi-Wan headed for the cockpit to speak with the pilots. Vader retreated to the passenger cabins and locked himself in one of the rooms. With the lights dim, he slumped against a wall, then down to the floor. Curling up, he sighed shakily and finally allowed himself to blush and feel all faint.

_Skywalker, you are in trouble…_ he moaned to himself as the deck-plates beneath him shuddered, signaling take-off and the journey back…


	31. 30: Separated?

**Chapter 30**  
_Separated?_

Vader sat on the couch in the shared Temple apartment and sipped a cup of sweet tea. It was late evening now on Coruscant and Obi-Wan was off in his own room catching up on some paperwork. Vader supposed he should probably be working on some of his own work, homework that he'd let slide a little bit longer than he should've, but he knew there was no way he'd be able to concentrate on it tonight.

They'd arrived back at the Temple in the afternoon, roughly a day after leaving Naboo. Without even stopping back at their quarters first, they reported to the Council. Nothing important was decided, but an appointment was made for the two of them to visit Master Yoda and Master Windu later in the evening.

An 'appointment for later' meant only one thing. After his initial appearance in the Temple and interview with the Council, anything dealing with his actual status was dealt with outside of the Council Chamber. Electronic records were automatically kept and most were open to the Senate. The Council had altered and heavily classified his interview to keep the Senate in the dark about him, but they would only do this once. So outside meetings were scheduled to address his issues when necessary.

Vader could guess what this 'appointment' would be about. With war declared, they would be discussing what to do with him. The whole point of his deal with the Jedi was that they would keep him safe and he would tell them what he knew…eventually. War is something decidedly bad for one's safety and health, so they needed to find a good way to keep him out of it.

He wasn't looking forward to this. Not one bit. He'd already thought it over on the flight back to Coruscant. And there was only one solution he could foresee.

Obi-Wan was a very talented Knight on the verge of Master-hood. His skills would be in demand in this conflict, and there was a good chance that he'd been shifted to the front lines to lead clone troops head-on into the Separatists. It wouldn't be fair, wouldn't make any sense, to keep Obi-Wan someplace safe like the Temple just because his 'Padawan' was a…special case.

No, they would be divided. Obi-Wan would go to the fronts to command. Vader would stay behind to rot in his uselessness. And this was totally unacceptable.

"Shouldn't you be working on that history report that was due three weeks ago?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly appearing next to the couch. If Vader had any tea left in his cup, he would've been wearing it.

"Probably," he shrugged, quickly recovering from the brief shock.

"So why aren't you?" Obi-Wan pressed.

"Can't focus until that stupid 'appointment' with Yoda and Windu is over." Vader grumbled, setting his tea cup on the low common room table.

"Well," Obi-Wan glanced over at the wall chrono, "it's almost time for us to meet them. We might as well leave now."

"Fine by me." Vader shrugged, standing up and resettled his cloak over his shoulders.

Obi-Wan nodded slightly and together they left the apartment. Several levels up and many hallways to the left and right, they came to the door that they were seeking. It looked rather ordinary, but beyond it was Master Yoda's meditation chamber. In that room, those seeking the ancient master's advice could go to speak with him. It was also a place for members of the Jedi Council to go and discuss things in private.

Since they were expected, Obi-Wan simply opened the door and went inside with Vader on his heels. The small chamber, usually dim, was darker than usual as the blinds had been closed. Master Yoda and Master Windu sat cross-legged on a pair of round, squat, cushioned stools in light trances, waiting. Obi-Wan and Vader each took a seat on some stools opposite the two Council members and waited to be acknowledged.

"Early you are." Yoda observed after a minute, opening his eyes to regard his guests.

"I ran out of paperwork," Obi-Wan replied, almost jokingly. "And young Vader was rather anxious to get this out of the way."

"Well then, let us begin." Mace declared. "I believe we all know what this meeting is about," he continued. "Now do you have any suggestions as to how to proceed Obi-Wan?"

"The most believable excuse I can think for Vader to remain behind would be due to his handicap. But that would only work for the short term. Once he learns to compensate, I can see no plausible reason to keep him from the front lines." Obi-Wan answered.

"A special assignment we could find him within the Temple." Yoda theorized.

"Perhaps," Mace agreed. "Do you have any thoughts?" The dark-skinned Master asked Vader.

Vader swallowed hard as he struggled to find the best, and least offensive way (for a change) to speak his mind. "While I will abide by whatever decision is reached, I request no special considerations be made for me." _Translation: you can stop coddling me, let me go with Obi-Wan._

All three Jedi was clearly caught off guard by his statement and it was several minutes before anyone replied to him.

"I thought you 'joined' us to hide?" Obi-Wan sputtered.

Vader struggled not to smack his own forehead. _Trust Obi-Wan to totally misunderstand me._ "Yes, I did. But Dooku has seen me, he knows where I am, so there isn't too much point in consciously hiding."

"So you are no longer interested in our arrangement?" Mace asked in a low voice.

"I didn't say that," Vader scowled at the floor, frustrated. "He knows that I am among the Jedi, but that doesn't mean I want to go find a rock to hide under to avoid risking ever running into him again. Nor do I mean that I wish to leave and go off on my own." _Man I suck with words! I don't want to hide, I don't want to leave, I want to stay and make sure Obi-Wan doesn't get vaped on his first command! How hard is that to understand?_

"An odd choice this is," Yoda murmured. "Perhaps revenge it is that you seek?" The troll suggested, pointedly glancing at Vader's right hand.

Vader wanted to kick the wrinkled old gnome but, with effort, held himself calm. "It would be a lie to say that I haven't thought about it like that. But I can assure you that that is not the motivation behind my decision." _I won't go looking to kick Dooku around, but if I _do _run into him and wipe the floor with him I wouldn't complain._

"So what _is_ your motivation?" Mace frowned suspiciously.

_Agh, you just _had _to ask _that_, didn't you?_ "If I were to remain in the Temple, I would feel useless and I…dislike feeling useless. I simply don't take too well to sitting around and doing nothing. I would much prefer to take a few risks, see some action and feel infinitely more useful, than hiding in the Temple like an overgrown Initiate." He replied tensely. _There, an answer. Not a _complete _one, but totally true._

All three Jedi regarded him with expressions containing varying degrees of incredulity, skepticism, and in Master Yoda's case something akin to amusement. Vader valiantly fought back an embarrassed flush, refusing to allow his face to show anything but calm neutrality. He wasn't sure he entirely succeeded, though he did manage to keep from visibly squirming.

"You wish to accompany me to war because you want to be 'useful'?" Obi-Wan blinked, utterly puzzled.

_Yeesh Obi-Wan, for a guy who's as smart as you, you can be really stupid sometimes._ "Yes," Vader shrugged. "What's wrong with that?"

"That's…a very odd reason." Obi-Wan frowned, his confused expression was almost comical.

"Why do you desire to be 'useful' to us? That's never seemed to be a concern of yours before." Mace inquired.

"I'll admit that I've been dragging my feet," Vader grumbled sourly. "And this, I think, is a good way to make up for that."

Master Windu and Knight Kenobi clearly didn't seem sure of what to make of his statement or his odd willingness to go to battle, but Master Yoda appeared strangely calm and unconcerned. He took control of the little meeting before either of the other two Jedi could ask Vader any more questions.

"Unexpected your request is. Think on it we will. When next you appear before the Council, our decision we will give." Master Yoda declared. "Late it is. Return to your quarters for the night you should."

When Master Windu raised no objections, Obi-Wan nodded in acceptance. "Thank you Masters, goodnight."

Vader merely nodded them a stiff farewell as he stood and to follow Obi-Wan out of the dark meditation chamber, but paused just before the door. "Wait, almost forgot," he mumbled and rummaged around in one of his belt pouches. He withdrew a small data disk and offered it to Master Windu. "Something I've been working on," he shrugged at the dark-skinned master's inquiring expression. Master Windu accepted the disk and Vader returned to Obi-Wan's side.

After leaving the chamber they traversed the hallways silently. Vader was certain that he radiated tenseness. And Obi-Wan also seemed tense, though a feeling of confusion was more prominent. The silence between them ended as soon as the door to their shared apartment closed.

"What are you doing? I thought you wanted to be safe?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning.

"I did," Vader shrugged, flopping down on his back onto the couch leaving his legs dangling over one of the couch arms and staring up at the ceiling.

Obi-Wan leaned over the back of the couch to stare down at his 'Padawan'. "So why are you willingly risking yourself now?"

"I thought I already covered that," Vader snorted. "You know I'm not the patient sort, content to sit around all day and do a whole lot of nothing. And you know I haven't exactly kept up my end of the deal here. I wish to be active and helpful."

"I doubt that that is the extent of your motivation in this." Obi-Wan almost scowled. "Now would you care to elaborate further?"

"No," Vader snorted. Obi-Wan shot him a glare laced with a touch of disappointment and Vader found he had to turn away as he was unable to stand up to the weight of that expression. "Part of your duty to me is to…to die if necessary…right?" He asked stiffly, his eyes fixed on the white ceramic teacup he'd left on the table near the couch before the 'appointment'.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied in a puzzled tone. He was probably wondering where Vader was going to go with this.

"Well, I don't want you to die." Vader replied so softly it was almost a whisper.

Obi-Wan said nothing, but he didn't have to. His emotions spoke quite clearly all by themselves. Confusion mainly with some disbelief on the side and the faintest trance of suspicion.

Something hard, cold, and prickly settled itself in Vader's chest and it became slightly difficult to swallow. "I'm going to bed," he muttered, rolling off the couch and stalking into his room. He didn't look at Obi-Wan, the carpet beneath his boots was far more important to his eyes at the moment. He locked his door behind him, killed the lights, and curled up in the darkness.

_You kriffing idiot Obi-Wan! Is it really so hard to believe that I care? That I'd miss you if you died? **Is it?**_

_**

* * *

**_

Obi-Wan stared at Vader's bedroom door for a while. The turmoil he sensed in the young man was…worrisome. But he had no idea how to go about rectifying the problem. Nor did he know what to do about what he'd recently learned.

Somehow is seemed Vader had developed an attachment to him. That was the only explanation for the young man's recent behavior. But how could it have happened?

He had always been careful in training the boy, mindful to keep a respectful distance. He was the teacher, Vader the student. He was the guardian, Vader was what he guarded. And yet somehow something had gone wrong.

It was true that in the usual Master/Padawan relationship a certain level of attachment was to be expected. He himself had been quite attached to his late Master, and while it had made them a formidable team, it had also devastated him when Qui-Gon had died. And that had been in a proper Master/Padawan pair with both members being raised as Jedi from infancy.

How had it happened here? Vader was no Jedi, he had no loyalty to the Order. He was independent, disrespectful, and callous. He had no need for friends, only allies. There was no reason for him to feel anything at all towards Obi-Wan.

Yet the young man had lunged across a room to block a blow from a man he feared to save Obi-Wan's life. He had sacrificed his arm and nearly died then. And then in the aftermath of his injury, Vader had clung to Obi-Wan and seemed to find some comfort it that. Attachment of some kind was the only thing that could explain such behavior.

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed wearily at his temples. Trying to puzzle over this was just giving him a headache. The swirling turmoil emanating from Vader's room didn't really help matters much either. Something had to be done about that.

Sighing again, Obi-Wan moved to stand in front of Vader's locked door and knocked. There was no verbal response, the door stayed locked, and the Force only swirled and twisted harder. Grimacing slightly, Obi-Wan gestured at the door, unlocking it and then opening it.

It was dark inside and it took a minute or two for his vision to adjust to that. When he could see, it was clear that Vader wasn't in his bed. He was curled up in a defensive crouch pressed tightly into a corner. Obi-Wan cautiously approached and took a seat on the floor a few feet away.

"What do you want now, _Master_?" Vader snarled acidly, though it was muffled by the fact that his face was buried in his knees.

"You're upset." Obi-Wan stated calmly.

"Bravo! Give the man a cookie!" Vader spat peering up from his knees just enough to glare at Obi-Wan through the darkness of the room.

"Would you like to explain why?" Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the rude outburst.

"No I would _not_ like to explain why." Vader growled. "But you'll keep asking until I tell you, won't you?"

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan shrugged. "Or maybe I'll just sit here and wait for you to answer on your own."

"You'd sit there all night?" Vader wondered.

"Maybe," Obi-Wan replied evasively.

"You're wasting your time then." Vader sneered. "You wouldn't understand."

"You don't know that." Obi-Wan frowned.

"Yes I do. You were raised as a Jedi. I was raised, for the most part, as a normal human being." Vader snorted. "You wouldn't understand."

Obi-Wan's frown deepened. "Explain anyway."

"Fine," Vader grumbled, shifting his gaze to burn a hole in his floor. "Fine," he repeated softer. There was a long pause before he continued.

"I don't like lying, and I don't like being alone. I can stomach this whole fake-Jedi thing fine, but…if I ever tried to-to make friends here then I'd be lying to them…the entire time. So…that's why I have no friends. I've never even tried. That's why I spend pretty much all of my time with you. I don't want to be alone and I don't have to lie. You know what I am so I don't have to fake anything." Vader paused in his ramblings, then added: "And most of the time you're decent enough company. Mostly."

"You flatter me," Obi-Wan sighed dryly.

"Yeah, I do, don't I?" Vader snorted. "Well, there's your answer. Are you going to leave me alone yet?"

"I thought you didn't like to be alone." Obi-Wan pointed out.

"I usually handle it pretty well in the short term." Vader sighed, slightly annoyed. "But more than a couple of days…would be more difficult."

"I see," Obi-Wan nodded, and he really thought that maybe he _was_ starting to 'see'.

It was very strange to think of an admitted Darksider to have any sort of conscience, let alone for one to be bothered by lying or dishonesty. Yet that seemed to be the case here. Vader didn't mind imitating a Jedi, but the idea of making friends within the Order and allowing them to believe his false front as a truth was too much for him.

And it was also strange to think of a Darksider to dislike being lonely, to want company, real friends. Those of the Dark Side, the Sith in particular, were known to be selfish, deceitful, and manipulative. Such traits do not make for good, true friends. They didn't even make for good acquaintances. And yet Vader _wanted_ friends, and he wanted to be perfectly honest to these friends. Half-truths and vague statements would not suffice.

"Well," Obi-Wan got to his feet, "are you going to sit in the corner all night or go to bed?"

"I'm going to bed." Vader mumbled though he didn't immediately move from his seat in the corner.

"Alright then, goodnight Padawan." Obi-Wan began to leave, but paused in the doorway. "Don't forget to do that history report tomorrow."

"I won't," Vader groaned sullenly. "Goodnight Master."

"Goodnight," Obi-Wan repeated and left, closing the door behind him.

Before turning in for the night, Obi-Wan settled on the thick rug near the apartment window to do some meditation. He needed to clear his head if he wanted to get any restful sleep that night. As he settled into the familiar exercise, he was relieved to sense that Vader wasn't quite as upset as he had been before, though the young man still radiated some negative prickles.

_I can handle a squad of battle droids or mediate the most complex of negotiations without much of a problem, _Obi-Wan sighed to himself, _but give me a moody teenager and I have no idea what I'm doing…_

_

* * *

_

Vader silently removed his Jedi robes and pulled on a pair of black sleep pants. Since he was going to sleep in a few minutes anyway and he knew where everything in his room was he didn't bother turning on the light. Once he had completed that task, he climbed into bed and buried himself under the covers.

He wasn't sure what to make of Obi-Wan's little visit. The Jedi rarely interrupted him when he was sulking or after he'd stormed off. On the rare instances that he did, it was usually because they had to go somewhere or do something important very shortly. Otherwise Obi-Wan generally left him on his own to cool down.

But this time, Obi-Wan had come after him to talk some more. He tried to understand why Vader wanted to do what he wanted. And he'd never really seemed to care about anything like that before. Perhaps it was idle curiosity on his part. Or maybe it wasn't.

Not feeling particularly tired, but sick of thinking about things, Vader sighed and closed his eyes. He slipped into a light trance to get relaxed and empty his mind. And at some point after that, he fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, after some early meditations, Master Yoda hobbled through the hallways of the Jedi Temple to meet with Master Windu. He could use his hoverchair and get there faster, but this was no emergency and he was in no hurry. Besides, exercise was good for him, it kept his ancient joints from stiffening up.

When he reached Master Windu's apartment, he found the human Master hunkered in front of his data terminal screen. Yoda limped over to one of Mace's armchairs and clambered up into the seat and waited for Mace to finish reviewing the file that held his attention. It took nearly a half an hour for Master Windu to leave his terminal and come to face the diminutive Master.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting Master Yoda." Mace greeted almost sheepishly.

"Informative your reading was?" Yoda asked, amused.

"Yes, it seems that young Vader has decided to share what information he has with us." Mace replied.

"Oh?" Yoda inquired, pricking up his long ears with interest.

"It isn't as much or as detailed as we had hoped it might have been." Mace sighed. "But it is very interesting nonetheless."

"Imagine his motivation to be his injury, I would." Yoda commented.

"Most certainly," Mace agreed. "I should have copies for the Council made up in time for this afternoon's session."

"Good, look forward to reading this report I do." Yoda nodded. "Now, your opinion on young Vader's request?"

"I must say, I'm not entirely sure what to make of it." Mace admitted. "His request goes against all his previous behavior and while I sensed no deception from him, I don't believe he was entirely open with his answers. He held something back."

"Yes, agree with you I do." Yoda nodded gravely. "An attachment, I sense, he has formed to Obi-Wan."

"An attachment?" Mace frowned, his tone slightly alarmed.

"Correct," Yoda confirmed. "A risk it is, however, also a benefit it can be."

"How so?" Mace wondered.

"A Jedi Vader is not. Loyalty to the Order he does not have. But loyalty to Obi-Wan…that, it seems, he does. Anchors him to us and the Light it does." Yoda explained. "Though, if one with the Force Obi-Wan becomes, risk losing young Vader we do." The elderly Master admitted. "A delicate situation this is."

"So what do you propose we do?" Mace inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Grant young Vader's request we should." Yoda declared. "Separated they should not be."

"Alright," Mace hesitantly agreed after several minutes' consideration. "When next they come before us, we shall inform Vader that he has permission to accompany Obi-Wan to war."

"And promote Obi-Wan we will," Yoda added. "Deserve it he does."

"Yes, I agree, and I'm certain the needed majority will too." Mace agreed with a slight smile. "We probably should have raised him to Master months ago. Even with Vader for a Padawan he's done some amazing work."

"Indeed he had," Yoda nodded cheerfully, "indeed he has."


	32. 31: Jabiim

**Notes:** I don't know much specifics about the Clone War so I'll be making most of it up... But this is an AU, so what I make up is true...so ha! Now enjoy!

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* * *

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**Chapter 31**  
_Jabiim_

Vader huddled under an inconveniently narrow overhang and glared. There were a lot of ways a planet could be completely opposite to Tatooine. An icy frozen planet would oppose Tatooine's oppressive heat. A lush green planet would oppose Tatooine's dead sandy wastes. An oceanic planet would oppose Tatooine's lack of water. And a planet where it rained all the time would oppose Tatooine's dry, rainless climate.

Jabiim was the last of these. It rained all the time, pretty much everyday. According to the data file he'd read, there was an average of seven days where the sun shined without any clouds to veil it. Every other day in its slightly longer than Standard year it rained. It rained, just as it was raining right now.

Funny how rain used to fascinate him. He could stare at it for hours on end. The very idea that water could fall from the sky blew his mind. Not even Dooku could make him hate rain. But Jabiim could.

_And to think, I _wanted _to come out here,_ Vader grumbled to himself in disgust. _I _wanted _to come out here just to spend time with my old buddy Obi-Wan. What _was _I thinking?_

"How's the weather?" Obi-Wan asked, stepping out of the command center and crowding Vader closer to the edge of the tiny overhang.

"Oh it's just _great_!" Vader sighed, drowning the statement in sarcasm.

"Ah yes, another beautiful day on Jabiim." Obi-Wan nodded gravely. "Aren't you glad that you're here to enjoy it with me?"

"Yes," Vader huffed.

It was still quite amazing to him that the Council had cleared him for this. Though he was very glad that they had. Almost a year had gone by since then, and some days he still had trouble believing it.

Less than a week after that 'appointment' the two of them had gone before the Council once more. He'd stood in the back of the chamber and watched as the Jedi Council promoted Obi-Wan, made him a Jedi Master like them. And then they had added, just before the two of them were to leave, that they would _both_ be shipped out to the Outer Rim at the end of the month.

Initially he'd been all but useless. On their first deployment Vader had been forced to stay behind the lines most of the time, he'd still been far too clumsy with his saber to be of any help. It had been frustrating and embarrassing, but he used the time it gave him to keep practicing. And so when they moved to the next system, he was more useful.

System after system, battle after battle, the months had bled by. He'd witnessed countless horrors, waves of battle droids storming over civilian settlements, clone troopers dying in the hundreds, missiles raining from the sky like water, continuous explosions that could deafen or drive to madness, and devastated wastelands. And the worst part was there was no end in sight.

But Obi-Wan stood firm through all of it and Vader was determined to be right there backing him up. If Obi-Wan could take it, then so could he. If a Jedi Master, raised in the safe, happy confines of the Jedi Temple, could stand this, then he, a desert rat runaway slave who rarely had luck smile on him, could stand it too.

"Well, I've got a patrol to supervise. Why don't you go inside? Dry off, warm up, harass someone." Obi-Wan teasingly suggested.

"Yes sir, General Kenobi, sir!" Vader smirked, giving a mocking salute. "I'll get right on it, sir!"

"Get going Padawan!" Obi-Wan snorted, lightly smacking Vader in the arm. "And enough with that 'General Kenobi' garbage."

"Yes sir!" Vader grinned, giving another little teasing salute.

Sighing wearily, Obi-Wan pulled his hood up and bravely marched out of into the rain. Vader leaned against the wall and watched him go until he vanished from sight. A few minutes after that, he decided to do as he was told and wandered inside.

The command center for the Republic forces was a prefabricated building thrown up as quickly as possible to give them all a nice dry place to control battles, make plans, or just relax in off time. Aside from the infirmary, conference rooms, and monitoring stations, there were lounges; large ones for clone troops and a few smaller ones for the Jedi commanders. Vader angled for one of the Jedi lounges.

It was a small bare room, just a few chairs, a table, a data terminal, a couch, and a preserver with some simple drinks and things inside. As usual it was almost entirely empty. Most Jedi on Jabiim where either busy working or getting some rest in their quarters. Today, there was only a shockingly young Padawan present.

Vader would've been surprised if the kid was more than ten years old. The Padawan was a boy and human and a bit on the small side. He was curled up on the couch and it looked like he was doing homework. Vader couldn't help but wonder who's bright idea it was to bring a child this young out here to this hellish mud-hole.

Curious to see what the kid was working on, Vader wandered over to peek at the datapad he was working so intently on. Sure enough, it was homework. Specifically, it was foreign language assignment. While Jedi weren't necessarily required to speak extra languages, they had to at least understand a good portion of a language or two and being fluent in it was encouraged. The language the boy was studying was Huttese. And he was quite terrible at it.

"Doing homework?" Vader asked politely.

The boy flinched. It seemed he'd been so focused on his work that he hadn't even sensed that he wasn't alone. "Yes," he answered, peering up to see who had interrupted his solitude.

"Do you enjoy studying Huttese?" Vader inquired, though he was certain the answer would be no.

"Not really," the Padawan sighed hesitantly. "I'm not very good at it."

"Mm-hm," Vader nodded. "Would you like any help with that?"

"You'd help me?" The boy asked eagerly.

"Sure," Vader grinned faintly, "no problem." He edged around the back of the couch and took a seat next to the kid. "Here, let me see that."

The Padawan happily handed over the datapad, though his eyes grew quite round when he saw Vader's right hand. "Your…hand." He squeaked.

"Does it bother you?" Vader asked as he scrolled through the kid's assignment.

"Not…not really," the kid swallowed. "Does it hurt?"

"It used to when I first got it," Vader shrugged. "But now there are days when I almost forget that it isn't my real hand."

"Oh," the kid fidgeted. "So how did I do?"

"Well," Vader sighed, glancing up from the 'pad. "I can follow most of your answers, but numbers five, seven, twelve, and twenty…I'm not sure what you meant to say there."

The Padawan cringed but took his datapad back and examined the indicated questions. He gave the answers he meant to say in Basic and then Vader guided him through some more coherent translations. And once that was done, he went back through all the other answers and helped him with his grammar and phrasing. It took a few hours, but Vader didn't mind. The kid, Zett Jukassa, was fun to work with and the time just flew by…

* * *

Obi-Wan fought back a sigh as he sat in the cramped confines of the Republic walker behind some of the clone troopers that controlled it. The large machine slogged through the mud flats north of the city where the Republic forces were concentrated. Supervising patrols was the worst – well, second worst – thing he had to do on a quiet battle front. The worst was sitting in trenches waiting for action.

But it was a necessary evil. He was a Jedi Master and a General and it was his duty to oversee his troops. And he always did his duty.

So far, the Separatist presence in this system was all but gone. There were a few scattered pockets of battle droids hiding out in the more remote mountainous regions, but with their numbers so small they weren't that much of a threat. The bounty hunters and mercenaries on the Separatist payroll were more of a problem, and they roamed the countryside with almost total freedom.

Scanning the scanner plot over a clone's shoulder, Obi-Wan made note of another patrol several miles to the west, headed by Master Unill. Master Unill had arrived on Jabiim less than a month before and Obi-Wan had yet to say more than a passing greeting to the other Jedi. All he really knew of the man was that he'd brought his very young Padawan to the system, though the boy remained behind at the command center or the barracks.

Obi-Wan looked away to check another display, a chronometer to see how much longer he would be out here, he sensed something disturbing. There was a warning chime and a set of blinking alert messages on the screen he'd been looking at barely a few seconds previous. But he didn't have to look at that display to know what had happened. Master Unill's command had come under fire. And Master Unill was dead.

_I hope his Padawan isn't alone right now…_ Obi-Wan mentally sighed as he directed his walker to go and investigate.

* * *

While Zett was busy drafting a special report about his experiences so far near a battlefield that would be shared with his classmates, Vader lounged on the couch. During the last hour, Vader had gone over _all_ of Zett's Huttese homework with the Padawan. Or, at least all of the homework that he hadn't already sent in for grading. And just a few minutes ago, Vader had agreed to help proofread a draft of Zett's report once he finished writing it.

_Ah, I'm such a softy…_ Vader sighed to himself. _Look at me, twenty years old, a trained Force-user, deadly with a lightsaber, and I'm helping a kid with his homework._

Upon reflection, Vader realized, his life bordered on ludicrous. He was born a slave. While a slave, he won a race that, by all logic, a human, let alone a human _child_, could not win, not to mention survive. Then he'd been bought by a Fallen Jedi turned Sith and dragged into a world of suffering and Darkness. And then he'd run away to become a reluctant Jedi Padawan, hiding among the real thing with most of them none the wiser to his true nature. And _now_…oddly…he wasn't quite so reluctant.

_Oh Obi-Wan…where are you?_ Vader wondered, glancing at the chronometer hanging on the wall. _Is his patrol over yet?_ He tried to remember how long the usual scheduled patrol runs went, but came up empty. _Hmm, can't be too much longer,_ Vader decided, settling deeper into the old couch.

Back when he'd first met Obi-Wan, he'd been convinced that the Jedi was incredibly dull and not all that bright. Really, what smart Jedi would willingly spend time around a person that all his training said was dangerous and untrustworthy? And a man who never cracked a genuine smile, drank tea, and meditated all the time couldn't possibly be fun or interesting.

This was before he'd seen the oh-so-proper-and-dignified Jedi do things like leap out of high-rise windows on Coruscant or fall into insanely dangerous Gundark nests on distant, unpopulated worlds. This was before he'd watched him spar with several different highly respected Jedi and hold his own for an impressive amount of time, even win sometimes. And this was before he'd learned of Obi-Wan's infamous 'misspent youth' while recuperating on Naboo.

_Obi-Wan _is _interesting,_ Vader smirked. _You just have to dig your way through the bland exterior to find him._ The smirk faded. _And with my patience, or lack thereof, I was lucky to ever get so far._

He couldn't say when he consciously started liking the Jedi. He certainly couldn't say why. All he knew for certain was that by the time of Geonosis, he was willing to sacrifice a great deal to save Obi-Wan's life. And he had yet to regret what he'd done from that moment on. He didn't even regret losing his hand.

_Actually, I'm probably better off with losing my hand, than keeping it,_ Vader mused as he studied the golden contraption that replaced his natural hand. _Yes it's ugly and hard to use, but it's great for punching!_ He mentally cackled to himself.

And a side-effect of his injury was his closer relationship with Obi-Wan. His clumsiness due to his mechanical prosthetic had made him temporarily more dependant on the Jedi and forced the both of them to work much more closely together. Instead of simply existing in the same room and exchanging the bare minimum of words necessary for communication, they actually had real conversations.

They talked about real things, more than just Jedi training or how the war was going. Things were more relaxed, almost casual, when they interacted. And then, the fourth system they were deployed to during the war, he'd gotten Obi-Wan to laugh.

Before, Whenever Obi-Wan laughed or smiled, which was a rare thing to begin with, it had been strained, forced. There was always a clear a trace of some gray emotion, sadness, grief, despair, perhaps even bitterness. The Jedi had always been weighed down by something, a dark memory or perhaps an agonizing loss.

At the time, he hadn't understood. Now he was pretty sure he knew the reason for Obi-Wan's lack of humor. Even after all those years, he'd been haunted by the loss of his own Master. Why that loss had weighed so heavily on him for so long, Vader really didn't know. He thought about asking a few times, but he never had because he couldn't find any moment that seemed appropriate for that kind of question.

He also hadn't found the proper opportunity to reveal anything further about himself. He was really starting to get sick of going by 'Vader' as it tended to remind him of his brief but painful time under Dooku. And it was really, _really_ starting to bother him that Obi-Wan knew as little about him as the next Jedi. It almost seemed like he didn't trust the older man the way he withheld information like his real name or his planet of origin. And he _did_ trust Obi-Wan. He just…he just couldn't find the right time combined with enough nerve to sit down and spill some of his guts.

_I'll do it when the war ends,_ he reminded himself, _at the very latest. As soon as that bastard Sidious is taken down, I'll tell him everything. And then I'll tell Padmé. And then–_

His thoughts abruptly chopped off at that point as he felt something disturbing ripple through the Force. A Jedi had died. And whoever it was had been nearby, on-planet.

The first time he'd felt a Jedi die had been on Geonosis. Most of the force sent to rescue Obi-Wan had fallen under the overwhelming waves of battle droids. But at the time he'd been too focused on the fighting and too high on adrenalin to really be effected. The next time, though, he'd really felt it.

The best way to describe it was a ripple in an otherwise smooth pond. The first impression, the first feeling the wave brought you was pain. And then when is passed by, there was an emptiness, a feeling of loss. If you didn't know who had passed on, it was merely disconcerting, like a rush of cold air. If you _did_ know who had died, it was infinitely worse. And from a few of the Padawans he'd been around that had been unlucky enough to lose their Master and become 'Orphaned', he could guess that loss was exponentially worse.

Vader glanced over at Zett to see how the Padawan was taking it and swallowed a curse. The boy was as white as a sheet, his eyes glazed and unseeing, and he clutched the datapad so hard it shook and his knuckles bleached whiter than his face. Such a strong reaction meant only one thing: Zett was an Orphan now.

Sighing, he reached over and carefully pried the 'pad out of the boy's hands, saved the file, turned it off, and set it aside. Then he scooted over so there was no space left between them on the couch and gently gripped the boy's shoulders. And then he whispered into the Padawan's ear: "It's alright to cry if you need to."

It was only later, after the tears had drained all the energy out of the kid and left him unconscious, did Vader learn just how bad it was. Little Zett Jukassa hadn't been ten years old like he'd guessed. He'd only been eight.


	33. 32: Orphan

**Chapter 32**  
_Orphan_

Obi-Wan grimaced at the bitter taste of his caf and wished in vain for a cup of tea. It was still early yet (or very, very late depending on who you asked) and so the briefing room was empty. The screens and holo-projectors used to display strategies and troop movements were dark and inactive, only a small lamp illuminated the auditorium-like room.

He'd specifically chosen this room to avoid running into other people. He wanted a little time to himself and this was the best way to get it. Now he could think all he wished without being interrupted.

Master Unill's death just over a week ago had signaled a rash of guerilla strikes. Mostly they were traps set along established patrol routes. The instant something interrupted a laser beam or touched a trip wire, a buried mine could go off or some concealed rocket launchers would fire, or both. That was what happened to Master Unill. His walker set off a trap and was reduced to slag.

Since then, three other walkers had run into similar traps and another Jedi, this time a Knight, was killed. Clone troops scouting on foot were also suffering. With every passing day, more Republic forces were hit. And opinion on what this meant was deeply divided.

Some felt this was the dying gasp of the Separatist presence on Jabiim. If they pressed just a little longer it would all be over and they could leave this rainy mud ball behind. But others were convinced that these increasing guerilla strikes meant that a fresh wave of Separatists reinforcements would arrive and try to remove the Republic from the system.

Obi-Wan couldn't decide which opinion he agreed with more. Thinking about it, internally debating it, just gave him a headache and got him nowhere rather quickly. So he set down his cup of caf and decided to think about something else. Vader was a good subject…

If one were to meet Vader only twice, once before Geonosis and once after, it would be unlikely that they could recognize him as the same person.

Before, the young man was always radiating some anxiety. Some days he would jump at shadows while others he'd just look at the shadows suspiciously. When he felt he could get away with it, he was excessively rude, let slip an explicative every third or fourth word, and acted callous and selfish. On his better days, he was a tolerable companion. But on the worst days (which had been far too often in his humble opinion) it was almost enough to drive Obi-Wan out of the Temple and into a bar.

Now, Vader was almost completely different. Yes, there were days when he reverted back towards his less-pleasant personality. But those days were fewer and farther between. The rest of the time, he was surprisingly pleasant to be around. If he was in a good mood, he was polite, sometimes talkative, even funny. If he was in a bad mood, he now was more likely to keep his mouth shut and perhaps sulk instead of spewing bitter, profanity-laden, whining rants like he used to.

And then there was his performance in battle. While he had always been a formidable warrior, before the war he had been hesitant. In sparring matches he rarely held back, but when real blaster bolts began to fly he left most of the work to Obi-Wan. Now some days it was all he could do to keep Vader from racing down the Separatist's throats. His hesitant, reluctant strikes had transformed into reckless, sometimes seemingly suicidal, charges.

_From the 'very reluctant Padawan' to 'always on the move',_ Obi-Wan half-chuckled to himself. He reached for his caf cup…and frowned when he came up empty. _Hey, where's–_

"This caf is terrible," Vader snorted from somewhere over Obi-Wan's left shoulder.

The Jedi Master slowly turned around to find his 'Padawan' standing there, studying the liquid in the stolen cup with a skeptical expression. He was dressed for bed, wearing his loose black sleep pants, a baggy white tank top he'd most likely won off a clone trooper during a card game, his cloak, and his boots. Vader took a cautious sip out of Obi-Wan's cup and grimaced.

"Yeesh, after all your fancy tea how can you stand this stuff?" Vader asked.

"I don't know, must be one of those unexplainable mysteries of the galaxy." Obi-Wan replied dryly. "What are you doing up here, awake, and in your sleep-clothes?"

"What are _you_ doing up here, awake, and _not_ in you sleep-clothes?" Vader countered, idly swishing the last of the caf around in the cup.

"You first," Obi-Wan fired back, shifting his chair around to more comfortably face his young companion.

"Oh, I had trouble sleeping and discovered you weren't sleeping either, so I decided to come find you." Vader shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable, tendrils of tension leaking past his shielding. "Your turn."

"It's just been so busy lately that I needed some time to sit and think for a while and this is the only time I could find to do that." Obi-Wan replied.

"Overachiever." Vader muttered, rolling his eyes. "Come on now Master, it's time for bed."

"Overachiever?" Obi-Wan repeated, ignoring the call to bed.

"Yes, you stay awake all day and do a great deal of thinking. And now you stay up late when you could be sleeping to think some more! You are an overachiever." Vader explained patiently, taking another sip of Obi-Wan's caf.

"I see," Obi-Wan replied gravely. "Now can I have my caf back?"

"No," Vader smirked after a long, slow sip.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"If you finish this, you won't sleep at all." Vader tossed back the last of the caf. "Stimulants and sleep don't mix well. Now off to bed with you!"

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Remind me, who is the Master and who is the Padawan here?"

"You're the Master," Vader answered, smirking, "and I'm _not_ the Padawan."

"Cute, very cute," Obi-Wan replied flatly. "Almost funny even."

"Really? I've been working on that one." Vader grinned.

"I can tell," Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily.

"Heh, well let's get back on subject here," Vader snorted. "Bedtime Master."

"You go on ahead, I'll catch up in a few minutes." Obi-Wan replied, waving the younger man off.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Vader jokingly scolded, wagging a metallic skeletal finger in front of the Master's face. "If I leave, you'll just stay here until the sun comes up. So I'm not leaving until you leave."

Obi-Wan glared up at the tall Padawan who only smirked back in response. Tiring quickly of the stalemate, the Master decided to give in. "Fine, fine," he grumbled in annoyance, stiffly rising out of his seat.

"Hah! I win!" Vader chuckled more to himself than anyone. "I beat The Negotiator!"

"Enough with that," Obi-Wan muttered. "The Holo-Net reports and News-Faxes are bad enough by themselves. I don't need to be hearing that from you too."

"What? I find that to be a very apt nickname for you." Vader grinned lop-sidedly, taking Obi-Wan's wrist and gently towing him out of the room.

"I don't like it," Obi-Wan complained, tamely following along.

"They could've coined something way worse for you, you know." Vader pointed out.

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed tiredly. "Though I wish that every time a reporter pounces on me, you didn't find a good excuse to disappear."

"But they're so scary!" Vader replied, warping his voice to sound younger and more innocent, child-like. He tried to look innocent too, but at Obi-Wan's very skeptical expression, he cracked up.

"You just don't want to have to deal with them and you resent the fact that you can't punch them in the face when they annoy you." Obi-Wan retorted dryly.

"That's part of it," Vader agreed once he stopped chuckling. "But I'm also afraid of what sort of weird nickname they'd saddle me with if they ever managed to see me more than twice."

"Oh I'm sure they wouldn't conjure up anything _too_ terrible for you." Obi-Wan replied, stifling a smirk. "Perhaps they'd call you…oh…The Hero With No Fear."

Vader paused mid-stride, then turned to stare at Obi-Wan with a partly disgusted, partly horrified expression. "One, that is a mouthful. Two, it _is _terrible. And three, it's entirely untrue."

"You could've fooled me with all those fearless charges of yours." Obi-Wan teased.

Vader scowled and started walking again, once more towing Obi-Wan by his wrist. "I'm not fearless," he mumbled, "and I'm not a hero."

Obi-Wan sighed quietly, but made no comment. He knew Vader wasn't fearless. But he felt he could argue the hero point if he'd felt like it.

When Master Unill had died, his Padawan had been devastated. The child had really been too young to be out here, even though there had been very little Separatist activity in the Jabiim system. If it was necessary for Master Unill to become involved in the war, his Padawan should've been left behind at the Temple. But he hadn't and he'd suffered for it.

Fortunately, while he hadn't had any of his friends with him to support him, he hadn't been alone when it happened. He'd been doing homework and Vader – of all people! – had been helping him with it. When the shock of his Master's death had hit him, Vader – again, of all people! – had become his support.

The Padawan, Zett Jukassa, practically fused himself to Vader for the four days that he remained on Jabiim before he'd been sent back to the Temple on the next out-going transport. The boy was always following him around and clinging to his sleeve or the edge of his cloak. The only time he wasn't hanging around Vader was when he was asleep. Vader had actually been temporarily pulled off field duty because Zett was terrified of losing his only friend out here like he'd lost his Master.

Vader had handled this all surprisingly well. He was amazingly patient with the boy, never once losing his temper. And while it was clear that sometimes Zett's clingy-ness had annoyed him, he almost appeared sad to see the boy sent away.

No matter what Vader argued he was, at the very least, a hero to that Padawan. He'd given the boy a shoulder to cry on. He'd helped him stay sane, feel safe. There weren't many senior-level Padawans that would put up with a weepy junior-level Padawan the way that Vader had, and Obi-Wan was certain that Zett knew that.

A gust of chilly wind jolted him free of his musings as Vader led him outside into the chilly late night (or very early morning) air. They crossed a wide muddy expanse between the command center and the barracks as quickly as possible, carefully weaving over the least soggy ground to minimize the amount of mud caked on their boots. But despite their efforts, they still spent over five minutes scraping mud off when they made it back indoors.

"I can't _imagine_ why Jabiim doesn't get many tourists." Vader snorted as he attacked the last layer of mud on his left boot. "I can hear the ads now, 'Come to Jabiim! See the rain! See the mud! It's a meteorologist's _dream_!'"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but laugh at that as he toweled the last of the mud off his own boots. "Yes, I can't imagine why either."

Now mud-free, they ventured deeper into the barracks towards their assigned quarters. The barracks, noisy and rowdy during the day, were eerily quiet at night. What made things even more eerie was the sound of their boots echoing down the halls, breaking the almost unnatural silence. If Obi-Wan hadn't suddenly felt so tired, it might've bothered him.

Thankfully bed wasn't very far away. Once the door had shut behind them, he wasted no time in stripping down for bed. First the cloak, then the boots, then the belts, then the outer tunic. And then he collapsed into the lower bunk.

"Goodnight Master," Vader laughed, "I'll set your alarm for you."

Obi-Wan failed to respond. Despite his half a glass of caf, he was asleep already.

* * *

Obi-Wan fought back yet another yawn as he slumped in his chair aboard the Republic walker he was currently commanding. He was regretting his desire for thinking time earlier (or would that be late yesterday?). The night (or early morning?) hadn't lasted long enough.

_I'm getting to old to run on three hours of sleep,_ he very reluctantly admitted to himself. _Too old…at thirty-six…_ Obi-Wan sighed and then fought back another yawn. _Blast…_

"You look like you could use some caf General Kenobi." One of the clones, this unit's commander, teased quietly.

"Yes, I think I do Alpha." Obi-Wan sighed ruefully.

It was interesting. In the beginning of the war, the clones went by their serial numbers. They had no individual names or nicknames. And they were incredibly disciplined, never expressing any individuality while on duty.

But over time, they began loosening up. Some soldiers began gossiping or cracking jokes while waiting in the trenches or out on patrol. A few even had the guts to try and chat with their Jedi superiors. And they began calling each other names instead of numbers. Like Alpha.

"Fifteen minutes and then we turn back." Alpha observed, intently studying some sensor display through the ridiculously restricting helmet that all clones had to wear.

_Thank the Force for small favors. I think I can stay awake just long enough to make it back._ Obi-Wan muffled yet _another_ yawn and rubbed wearily at his eyes. _Stars, how did I even manage to get up this morning?_

How had he made it awake this morning? He hadn't, Vader had to intervene. When he failed to be roused by the blaring alarm that Vader had so kindly set for him before he'd passed out, the young man dumped a glass of ice cold water over his head. _That_ had done the trick.

_At least it was just water this time,_ Obi-Wan reminded himself. The last time he'd had trouble getting up on time while they'd been on Ruusan, Vader had thought it would be fun to sit on his back and slowly crush him to wake him up. Obi-Wan swore he'd been ten seconds away from needing to visit a chiropractor.

_Sometimes I really worry about that boy. He–_

A warning blared at him through the Force and he snapped up straight in an instant. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to order the walker to come to a full stop–

There was a deafening roar. A blinding flash of light. A searing rush of heat. The floor trembled and bucked beneath him. Some of the clones yelled or screamed. The walker lurched sideways, twisting, bucking.

Obi-Wan tumbled out of his seat, smacked the side of his head against a console–

* * *

Vader had been eating breakfast. Since Obi-Wan hadn't gotten up on his own (big surprise there), he'd had to wake up earlier than he'd wanted to, to get Obi-Wan up. And since Obi-Wan was out on early morning patrol, he was eating breakfast at the far end of the mostly empty 'Jedi table' in the mess hall alone. There were other Jedi there, they just sat at the other end of the table.

So yes, he had been eating breakfast. Plain oatmeal with a glass of some kind of juice and a side of slightly overdone toast. And he had been bored. _Had been._

Then an icy chill of foreboding shot up his spine. He sat up very straight, now very alert. And then he'd felt inexplicably restless, like there was somewhere he really, really, _really,_ needed to be _right now!_

And then there was silence. Not actual silence. The mess hall was still quite loud he supposed. He just ceased to hear it. All he was aware of was a perfect, profound silence. Both external and internal.

Some Jedi grasped his shoulder and gave it a few good shakes. Vader almost didn't react. But eventually, he did turn to face the person touching him. And when that Jedi (A Knight? A Master?) saw his face, that Jedi's expression shifted from confusion to horror. Another Jedi near the end of the table said something. And then it _really_ became silent…

* * *

When he looked back upon things later, he would probably describe what he was feeling as a mixture of deep shock and utter loss. It was similar to what he vaguely remembered feeling when Dooku had hacked his arm off. Some part of him was suddenly gone.

The only other thing he remembered about that day was standing outside in the pouring rain, staring into a crater in the muddy ground littered with melted shards of metal. He never was able to remember how he got out there. He was never able to remember how long he stayed there. And he was never able to remember how he left…


	34. 33: Bitter Rain

**Chapter 33**  
_Bitter Rain_

He didn't cry. That seemed to bother the other Jedi that he didn't cry. But they didn't understand. If he cried, if he let himself, he wouldn't be able to stop. He simply couldn't afford to do that. Not now. Not here. So he didn't cry.

The very next day the Separatists returned to Jabiim in full force. A fleet of ships encircled the planet, pinning the Republic forces on the ground and cutting them off from all help. The only ship that got through the blockade was a supply vessel that arrived at roughly the same time as the invading Separatist fleet. Since then there had been no contact with the outside galaxy.

On that ship, aside from some much needed supplies, were some reinforcements. There were a few fresh squads of clone troopers, of course, but there was also a very unique group of Jedi. They were Padawans, all senior-level, and all Orphans.

When they arrived the Master in charge of the campaign hadn't known what to do with them. They were Padawans and yet they had no Masters. Who would command them? Who would lead them? Who _could_?

In the end, Vader somehow ended up with that responsibility. Despite his condition, they couldn't send him away, so they'd try to put him to work. He was just like them now, and he was the oldest, so command fell to him.

The youngest had been fifteen. The oldest was eighteen. They were a diverse mixture of species, but all were connected through suffering. The war had permanently severed them from their Masters and it had hardened them. If there hadn't been such a dire need for their services, they'd probably have been kept at the Temple. But the war ground on and, ready for action again or not, they were here.

He frightened them. They were hardened by war and deep loss. Death and the Separatist droids that dealt it brought them no anxiety. But he frightened them.

His eyes were cold, they said. Cold like the depths of the void. Hard like compressed diamonds. Sharp like razor thread wire. Jagged like shattered transparisteel. Hollow and unfeeling.

But they didn't know cold. Not then. Not yet. Not until a week after they arrived. Not until the first of them died.

The youngest, a human girl, was the first to fall. During a counter-attack a laser blast slipped past her blade and burned through her throat. She didn't last long enough to realize what had hit her.

A clone trooper brought her back. All the Jedi had already known she was gone, they'd felt her death. But seeing her pale, limp, and caked in thick grayish mud was still a shock to most of them. Her friends among the Orphans mourned her. Vader just grew colder.

The battle two more of the Orphans fell. A Rodian and a Twi'lek. They'd been leading a wave of troopers when they detected a land mine two seconds too late. When the smoke cleared there hadn't been much of them left. Their friends mourned them. Vader stood for hours out in the rain.

The battle after that another Orphan failed to return. A Zabrak Padawan was almost blown in half by a thermal detonator. The worst part was he didn't die immediately. He lingered on for a few hours. Clinging to life as his friend clung on to him. But it hadn't been enough. The remaining Orphans had cried. Vader disappeared for an hour, returning with a few fresh scuff marks on the knuckles of his skeletal prosthetic.

And the battle after that, a particularly nasty Separatist strike brought down the last three Orphans. That one massive attack also happened to take out most of the remaining Jedi and halved what was left of their clone troops. If any of the four remaining Jedi Knights had noticed that Vader had been especially vicious in destroying the battle droids that he faced around that time, they made no comment on it.

Not that their opinions would've mattered all that much in the long run. The very next day, they died too. And Vader was the last 'Jedi' on Jabiim…

* * *

It was raining again. No surprise there. Jabiim had two main seasons. The rainy season, and the _very_ rainy season. It was the _very_ rainy season now.

Sheets of icy cold rain swept over the crater-pocked open fields and turned the trenches into shallow streams. The greenery that had once covered the land and kept the near constant rains from washing away the topsoil was long gone, all torn up and seared away by war. There was nothing but thick, gray, sticky mud for as far as the eye could see.

Down in the soggy trenches the remaining clone troopers stood at the ready. With each succeeding battle, their numbers dwindled further and at this point there were barely enough to defend this last position. Actually, there weren't enough soldiers left to defend this place. The rest of those present in the trenches were volunteers, native Jabiimites.

It was a strange breed of people that could live on such a damp, muddy planet. The natives were fiercely independent and long accustomed to taking care of themselves. But they'd lacked the strength to repel the Separatists alone and the Republic, finally remembering that they even _existed_, had offered the help they needed.

Beneath the planet's muddy exterior was a vast wealth of mineral resources. The Separatists wanted those resources to build more droids, ships, and weapons. The Republic would like the resources too, but would settle for just keeping them out of Separatist hands. The Jabiimites just wanted to stay free and independent. They knew the Separatists wouldn't let them remain that way if they won, so they'd thrown their lot in with the Republic.

Now that the Republic forces were cut off and failing, the Jabiimites, feeling desperate, were sending volunteers to the front. Though untrained, they certainly had the determination needed to stare down the endless waves of mindless battle droids that marched on the trenches. They would hold their world at all costs, even their own lives.

Vader respected that. Part of the reason that there was a clone army was that ordinary beings, the average members of the Republic, didn't want to risk their own lives or the lives of their children in war. They didn't see the clones as real people, they were just copies bred and trained solely for the war that now raged.

The Jabiimites were different. They were willing to spend their own lives, not just the lives of clones of a stranger. They were willing to pay the price for freedom themselves instead of sitting back and demanding that others do it for them.

Vader passed a few of the volunteers as he slowly paced the line. They nodded to him in terse greeting as he approached him, and shuddered with more than damp cold as he passed them. He frightened them too, like he'd frightened the Orphans. But they also understood why he was so cold, or felt that they did. And they respected him.

A cold wet gust of wind smacked him in the face though he barely felt it. It didn't even slow his pace as he slogged through the swampy trench. The sensation of being dry and clean was now just a distant memory.

Jabiim would fall. It wasn't a question of if anymore, just a question of when. Everyone knew it. Vader knew they knew it. He could feel it in the sodden atmosphere. So long as the Separatist blockade held, the rainy world was doomed.

Most of the southern hemisphere had fallen to the Separatists. What was left was mainly defended by local defense forces and resistance fighters. They wouldn't last much longer. And then there was his force, which guarded the planetary capital.

Perhaps his troops would last longer than the rest. Perhaps they wouldn't. Vader didn't know, nor did he have the energy left to care.

All his remaining strength was directed to keeping his focus locked tightly on the here-and-now, on the task at hand. He would do his duty; he would follow his orders to defend Jabiim until he could no longer physically do so. He would fight until the Separatists until they trampled him down into the mud, into the blood, and into the bitter rain-soaked fields of Jabiim.

And when he died, he would die free. He wouldn't die a slave. He wouldn't die a servant to Darkness. He would die on his own terms. He would die doing something good, right. He would die free.

Vader paused mid-step, spun on his heel, and strode double-time back to the middle of the line. The Force whispered him warnings that he couldn't so much understand as feel. They were coming again.

At the center of the line of trenches was the make-shift field command center. As the only Jedi left, it was his duty to be there and command. No suicide charges for him. Not until the very end.

He arrived just as the preliminary reports came in. He listened as the clone commanders fired off their shaky figures of enemy troop strengths and movements. He considered it for a few moments, then gave his orders. As his orders were relayed down the line, he turned to face the direction of the oncoming enemy wave and waited.

Darkness was the ultimate temptation. It offered a quick simple solution. Instant results with less effort. Always it called, speaking louder in times of stress. And when the temptation is yielded to, when the Darkness is tapped, it overwhelms.

The sense of power, of strength and invincibility, is limitless. Better than alcohol, better than spice, better than sex. Nothing can top the high that Darkness brings. And after that first touch, that first taste, it's _so much harder_ to _not _touch it again.

Vader knew it all too well. It called to him now. A siren call, whispering of destruction, power, and revenge. It could be some much easier if he just gave in, used it just this one more time. After all, there were no more Jedi left, no one to know if he drew on the Darkness or not. He could get away with it. He could.

It coiled around him. Almost touching him. Whispering, promising, offering. He almost listened, almost reached out to seize it, but 'almost' was as far as it went. Instead of accepting it, drawing it into himself and using it, he pressed it away.

Then the time for waiting was over. The fabled 'calm before the storm' shattered under the slogging feet of row upon row of marching battle droids. And the last of the Republic forces crouched in the mud, ready to meet them.

The missiles and thermal detonators came first. Most fell short or fell far, leaving steaming craters where they exploded. A few fell just right to land in the deep narrow trenches, leaving carnage in their wakes. Clones and Jabiimites screamed and died, but the line held.

The droid army drew closer, the simpler Trade Federation models drew their blaster rifles from the slots on their backs, the more advanced Techno Union models merely raised their right arms. Vader let them come. He waited for an agonizing five minutes before he stopped letting them come.

At the critical moment, Vader gave the signal and his line finally bared its' teeth. The troopers and volunteers rose up from their sheltered positions and opened fire. Vader unhooked his saber and waited.

Holes appeared in the front lines of both sides as droids fell on the march and clones and Jabiimites fell in the trenches. The Republic line held. The Separatist line kept advancing. Vader watched, waited, and listened with his ears and with his mind.

What he saw, heard, and sensed, he did not like. The tide of the battle was clear, and it was against them. There were simply too many droids and too few of them. If they held here, spent themselves entirely on this spot, they would make no appreciable gain for their sacrifice.

If they were going to be annihilated, Vader wanted them to take as many of these bastards as possible along with them, and they couldn't do that here. So they would go somewhere where they _could _do that. Vader tightened his grip on his saber and shouted the order to withdraw towards the city.

The trenches exploded as the last remnants of the Republic Army on Jabiim surged up and out. A third of them stood and provided cover fire while the other two thirds made a mad dash over the three miles to the fringes of the capital. Most of those who stayed to provide cover never made it more than five steps away from the lip of the trench they'd jumped out of.

Vader ran in the middle of the pack, neither at the leading edge of the retreat, nor at the trailing edge by the trenches. He tried to keep the troops in some loose form of order, but as they ran more and more fell due to exhaustion, injury, and death. Halfway to the city he was all but alone, only a small squad of clones remained close enough for him to effectively command.

A wave of vulture droids swarmed in, raining fire in front of Vader's little group, forcing them to stop short. The clones tried to shoot the flying droids down, but their blaster rifles simply lacked the power necessary to do enough damage. Vader tried to deflect some of the vultures' blasts back at them, but their higher powered energy weapons, which were designed to break the shields on star-fighters, left his arms trembling and tingling with each jolting impact.

In minutes his forces were reduced to three clones and himself, and the squadron of vulture droids, diminished only by three, landed shifting into their terrestrial attack mode. The awkward scuttling droids scampered towards them, ready to bludgeon them to death. Vader snarled and raised his sapphire blade to cut down the enemy machinery that was charging him, when two unexpected things happened.

First the vulture droids took hits from some laser cannons that seemed to have materialized magically somewhere behind Vader. Before even half of the vultures were slagged the second thing happened. A ship's thrusters fired, again behind him, blasting rain and mud everywhere and half-blinding him.

Someone grabbed him from behind and switched off his saber before he could blink. And then he was yanked backwards and-and upwards? An incline? Solid, not squishy like mud? A…a boarding ramp to-to a ship?

Vader tripped, catching his heel on the ship's threshold, and tumbled to the floor with a damp splat. He was dragged a few feet deeper into the ship by his mystery savior (or captor?) before he was released and allowed to slump down flat onto the deck. There was a blur of movement and a…a…a Tusken Raider…?

_Th-that's it! I'm hallucinating! I've kriffin' lost it!_ Vader violently shook his head to try and clear it and get his focus back. There was no way a Tusken Raider could be here. The primitive natives of Tatooine were violently aggressive, isolationist, xenophobic, technophobes. They never left Tatooine. Ever. Period. He _had _to be seeing things.

But when he opened his eyes again and looked around, the Tusken was still there! It was now hurrying down the corridor towards the ship's bridge and it paused briefly to turn around and beckon to him. Vader stared incredulously at it, slowly staggered to his feet, and then crashed straight back to the floor as the deck lurched underneath him.

Dazed and totally off-balance, Vader managed to get back on his feet a second time and make his way towards the bridge. It wasn't easy as the ship kept twisting and jerking around and his legs didn't seem to want to hold him up anymore. All the endless slogging through sticky mud followed by a two mile sprint seemed to be catching up with him. The fact that he hadn't had more than a few cat-naps in about four days probably wasn't helping much either.

When he finally did make it to the bridge, the ship had risen to the upper reaches of Jabiim's atmosphere. The Tusken Raider was _still _there, clinging to the back of a chair occupied by a clone. It appeared to be leaning over the clone's shoulder and reading the display screen. Vader just stared at it, unsure if he was sane or not, awake or not.

"Padawan Vader, where are the others?" A very proper, cultured-sounding voice demanded, interrupting his confused stare.

Vader whipped his head around to see Ki-Adi-Mundi, the Cerean Jedi Master Council member, staring at him. Vader blinked blankly at the alien Jedi, totally failing to grasp the meaning of the question he'd been asked. The cone-headed Cerean seemed to grow annoyed with Vader's failure to answer him.

"Where are the others?" Master Mundi asked again.

"Others?" Vader repeated blankly, his voice hoarse from all the shouting he'd had to do to be heard over the roar of battle.

"The other Jedi, where are they?" Master Mundi elaborated as if it should've been obvious.

It took a long moment for that to click in Vader's head. There must be more chaos out in the rest of the galaxy than he'd thought. The Jedi were probably aware that many of their number had died on Jabiim, but they had no clue that _all _of them had passed on.

"Dead," Vader croaked at last. "They're…all dead. I'm…'m the only one left."

Master Mundi frowned back at him for a minute. A flicker of suspicion flared briefly in his eyes before he turned away to call out orders to the ship's crew. It seemed they were to withdraw back to Coruscant immediately.

Vader swallowed hard and clutched at the edge of a console to keep from sinking to the deck. His legs hurt and he was so tired. His soaked, mud-caked robes weren't making things any easier. They were now ten times heavier than they were supposed to be and the drafts from the air vent over his head made him shiver. _So tired…_

The transport ship gave one last lurch as it transitioned into hyperspace and about the same time Vader's knees decided to stop working. But instead of hitting the deck – again – someone caught him. He twisted his head around to see the Tusken Raider – who was surprisingly solid for something that he _had_ to be hallucinating – had caught him.

"Please come with me," the Tusken encouraged pleasantly, though it's – his – voice was muffled by his ugly mask. "You look as though you could use some dry clothes and a place to rest."

"Who are you?" Vader wondered dazedly as the Tusken half-dragged, half-carried him off the bridge.

"My name is A'Sharad Hett and I am Master Ki-Adi-Mundi's Padawan." The Tusken explained.

"Oh," Vader blinked.

"I am a human," A'Sharad continued, heading off a question he'd probably been asked a million times before by curious others, "but I grew up among the Sandpeople of Tatooine and I consider myself one of them."

"Oh," Vader blinked again, suddenly twice as uncomfortable with this odd situation as he had been before.

The last time he'd been around Tuskens, if he'd been seen he would've been attacked. Now he was being half-carried by what _looked_ like a Tusken, but was actually a human who _thought _he was a Tusken. This was just…weird and…awkward.

A'Sharad brought him to a cabin and left him there while he presumably went in search of some dry clothes. Vader wearily shrugged off his sodden cloak and lazily dumped it on the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed to peel his water-logged boots off. As he pried them off, each coming loose with a wet sucking sound, he felt ever stronger waves of weariness crash into him.

His chest tightened as his raw throat grew thick. His vision grew blurry as his eyes stung. Stubbornly swallowing hard and clenching his teeth, he willed the sensations away. He couldn't afford what they signified. Not now, not yet.

_Just a little longer… Just-just a little longer…_


	35. 34: Crumble

**Note: **Meant to say this last chapter, but I started up a rather lame forum. Check out my author page if you're interested...

Also, from this point on, updates aren't likely to be as quick or regular. Finals are coming up so I'm really busy and I'm out of already-written material.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 34**  
_Crumble_

Vader sat on the couch in the common room of his apartment. His posture was painfully stiff, every muscle tense, shaking even. He stared unseeing at the dark vid-screen that hung on the far wall. It was silent, save for his slightly ragged breathing.

He'd returned to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple early that morning with Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi and his Padawan A'Sharad Hett. The entire morning had been consumed with meetings with the Jedi Council and a brief check-up with the Healers. And he'd only just now, sometime after noon, been released to the privacy of his quarters.

His skeletal prosthetic rhythmically opened and closed, making faint whirring, grinding sounds. But he didn't hear it. Nor did he realize that he was doing it. He was too busy replaying the morning in his head to notice much else…

* * *

Vader didn't know how he managed to keep from attacking the Council. He really didn't. Perhaps he was too angry to move. Yeah, that was probably it. 

How dare they ask him that? How _dare_ they? And so soon! He'd only just made it back from Jabiim. How dare they ask him who he would like to replace his Master? _Replace _him!

There they sat in their comfortable chairs. Eight of them were present in the flesh. The other four attended as holograms. They sat there and waited for his answer calmly and impassively.

He hated them. He hated them all. If only he could move, if only he could speak, he'd show them all how much he hated them.

"Perhaps it is too soon to ask this of the Padawan," Ki-Adi-Mundi suggested, breaking the tense silence. "We have only just returned from battle and young Vader has not had much time to recover."

"What do you suggest we do then?" Adi Gallia asked. "He requires supervision, guidance; he cannot be left to his own devices."

"I could look after him until he makes his choice." Ki-Adi-Mundi offered.

"You already have a Padawan," Mace Windu pointed out.

"True," Ki-Adi easily conceded, "but Hett is very close to being ready for the Trials, both of them seemed to get along well together on our return journey, and the arrangement would only be temporary."

The other Council Members sat back in their chairs and looked thoughtful as they considered this possibility. They glanced at one another and when they saw no argument, they turned as one to face Vader.

"What say you?" Yoda asked curiously.

It took Vader a moment to get his voice to work properly. "If the Council approves, I accept Master Mundi's offer." He replied tensely.

Master Yoda glanced around the chamber and seeing no disagreement, nodded to Vader. "Approve this the Council does," the aged Master rasped.

"Return to your quarters and rest, Padawan Vader," Master Windu commanded. "Master Mundi will speak with you when the Council concludes it's business."

Vader clenched his teeth, bowed very stiffly, and all but fled the Council Chamber…

* * *

His hand kept flexing. Open. Closed. Open… 

It was suffocating in here. The walls, ceilings, and floors pressed in around him. The silence strangled him. Every breath was a battle.

When he had first come here, he'd seen this apartment as a beige jail cell. The mask of the dutiful Jedi Padawan he wore everyday was stifling. He'd hated the boring accommodations with a passion.

But somehow, over time, that impression shifted. It became less a jail cell without the bars and more of a sanctuary. Here he could let himself relax a bit, speak his mind if he felt so inclined. There was only one other pair of eyes here that watched him instead of the multitude that wandered the rest of the Temple. Only one who observed him, saw his true nature. Or…at least there had been.

Now it was back to the prison, though it wasn't quite the same as before. Now it was cold, drab, and so very, very empty. Faint echoes of a familiar Force signature danced at the edges of his mind, tormenting him endlessly as did the faint lingering odor of tea.

His hand froze in the fisted position. He couldn't breathe. His eyes stung and vision misted. He couldn't swallow. His chest burned and tightened painfully. He could feel himself breaking.

No. He'd suppressed it too long. Too long to crumble now. He refused to let himself shatter.

Vader lurched up from the couch and strode to the door. He stormed from the apartment and out into the halls of the Temple. A walk would help him calm down. Walking had helped him on Jabiim, it would work here too. He'd just take a walk and be back in time for his meeting with Master Ki-Adi-Mundi…

* * *

A blow to his chest quite violently snapped Vader back to the present. Someone had run into him. He dazedly grappled with the stranger for a moment, before the stranger, a sleazy-looking Rodian, broke away and dashed down the street. Vader staggered to his feet to find he was clutching a woman's handbag in his left hand. 

He stared at the small black bag for a minute, before he looked up and around. He wasn't in the Temple. He wasn't even _near_ the Temple anymore. And it was starting to get late.

A second impact, this time to his back, cut off his train of thought. Now more aware of what was going on around him, he spun around to see who had hit him this time. This time it was a frazzled woman wearing concealing robes with her hood thrown back. She was out of breath and furious.

"Where did he go?" She demanded sharply.

"Who?" Vader blinked, his thoughts still on the slow side.

"The thief who stole my purse," she snapped, her dark eyes blazing as she scanned her surroundings in search of the thief.

"Was he a Rodian?" Vader asked, getting the distinct feeling he knew exactly who the thief was.

"Yes! You saw him?" She exclaimed, staring up at him hopefully.

"I think he ran me over." Vader replied. "Is this yours?" He held up the black purse.

"Yes!" She squealed excitedly, snatching the purse from his loose fingers and hugging it to her chest. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Vader nodded faintly and turned to return to the Temple.

"Wait!" The woman cried and Vader obligingly stopped and turned back to face her.

_She looks…familiar._ He noted.

She scrutinized him for a moment. "Padawan Vader?"

He blinked. "Yes, that's me."

"Tonight _is_ my lucky night," she giggled. Then she noticed his puzzled expression. "Oh, you don't remember me?"

He squirmed nervously. "You seem familiar," he offered hesitantly.

"Oh," she sighed, "I see. Little Sabé gets forgotten again."

"Sabé?" He repeated. And then it clicked. "Oh. Aren't…you supposed to be on Naboo serving Queen Jamilla?"

"So you _do _remember me." Sabé smiled. "Yes, I was supposed to be on Naboo serving the Queen. But then Dormé's father took ill and she wished to return home to be closer to him. So Padmé and Queen Jamilla did a little Handmaiden swap and _poof!_ here I am."

Vader nodded silently.

"So what are you doing down here all alone?" Sabé asked curiously.

"I went for a walk and lost track of time and place." Vader shrugged evasively.

"Mm-hm," Sabé nodded a tad skeptically. "Well Padawan Vader, it seems that I still require some assistance."

"Oh?" Vader prompted.

"You see I was sent out here to purchase some take-out for dinner and all this mess with that thief has gotten me a bit lost. Could you direct me to," she paused to glance at a slip of paper, "the 'Gregori Café'?"

Vader frowned and wracked his brains, but… "I'm sorry, I can't say that I've ever heard of the place."

"Drat," Sabé scowled at her wrist chrono. "And I'm late as it is."

Vader studied his surroundings more closely as he chewed his lip thoughtfully. _Hmm, this is Coco Town…_ "Might I suggest an alternate?"

Sabé raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"I happen to know of a restaurant around here that does take-out. It isn't fancy, but I've always enjoyed the food. It's called Dex's Diner, interested?" Vader tried to smile, or even smirk, but the corners of his mouth just wouldn't respond.

"Well, seeing as I'm so late and since you approve of this establishment, I think I'll take you up on your offer." Sabé grinned faintly. "Lead on young Padawan."

Vader rolled his eyes, annoyed, but he set off down the street, leading her to Dex's. Sabé quietly glided behind him, still clutching her purse tightly to her chest to keep any more thieves from trying to remove it from her person. Her posture was amusing, but he didn't laugh at her, he just forged on ahead. He kept on walking and desperately tried to forget about who had introduced him to Dex's in the first place…

* * *

Vader leaned against the back wall of the lift, careful not to let the small pile of take-out crates in his arms shift too much and fall. He vaguely recalled that he was supposed to be doing something in the Temple right about now, but there was no way Sabé could carry all of this back to Padmé's penthouse apartment by herself. Besides, he could always call the Temple if he was delayed any further. It wasn't like he had to ship out in the morning or anything. 

The lift came to a stop and chimed as it reached Padmé's level. The doors hissed apart and Sabé hurried through as soon as it was wide enough for her to fit through. Vader sighed, straightened up, and followed her at a more sedate, Jedi-like pace.

A pair of rather unhappy looking Handmaidens greeted them. Well, they greeted Sabé, they didn't seem to notice him. He hung back in order to hopefully keep it that way.

"You're late," one of them observed sternly.

"And those don't look like the take-out boxes from Gregori's," the second one frowned.

"Yes, well, Moteé, Ellé, I had an unavoidable misadventure that caused a change in plans." Sabé tried to explain.

"Lady Amidala specifically requested that you pick up her favorite meal from Gregori's for tonight." The second one scowled.

"Moteé, Ellé, is that Sabé?" Padmé called from another room.

"Yes my Lady," the first one called back.

"Oh good," Padmé sighed, hurrying into view. "I was starting to get worried."

"Sorry Padmé," Sabé apologized sheepishly. "I didn't mean to take so long."

"I'm sure you didn't," the Senator smiled, "now let's eat. I'm starved!"

"Of course," Sabé grinned, causing the other two women's frowns to deepen slightly.

The four women filtered into the apartment's dinning room with Vader trailing several steps behind them. He was somewhat amused that they were so focused on Sabé being late and the food that they hadn't acknowledged his presence yet. But at the same time he was glad of it. Hopefully he could take his meal, dump off the ones he were carrying for Sabé, and escape unnoticed.

"Those don't look like take-out boxes from Gregori's," Padmé noted as Sabé dumped her armload on the table.

"Yes," Sabé cringed, "about that… I tried to find this Gregori's, I really did, but while I was searching a Rodian stole my purse."

"Goodness," Padmé blinked, alarmed.

Moteé and Ellé looked deeply skeptical and Vader began to really dislike them.

"I tried to chase the scummy villain down and get my purse back, but he eluded me. Thankfully, though, a brave Jedi Padawan came to my rescue. He'd had a run-in with the thief and got my purse back for me. I asked him about Gregori's, but he'd never heard of it, though he did direct me to a different restaurant that he was familiar with." Sabé paused in her narrative to check the contents of one of the boxes. "And so that is why I was late and why we're having Dex's Diner instead of Gregori's Café."

"Cute story," one of the Handmaidens snorted before Padmé could respond.

Vader scowled at the two disbelieving Handmaidens. If they didn't believe a fellow Handmaiden, perhaps they'd believe a Jedi. He stopped hovering in front of the doorway and stepped through to deposit his own load of take-out boxes. The looks on their two faces was enough to inspire a faint smirk on his part.

"Oh, and I forgot to mention that he kindly offered to help me carry the food home." Sabé grinned.

"Vader!" Padmé squeaked in surprise. "When did you get back to Coruscant?"

"Just this morning," Vader shrugged a tad uncomfortably. He started to pick through the boxes searching for the one that had the food that Sabé had bought for him as a thank-you for his help.

"Really? Where were you?" Padmé asked, radiating innocent curiosity.

Vader swallowed hard as prickly ice shards formed in his gut. "Jabiim."

"Jabiim," Padmé murmured. "There haven't been many reports since it was blockaded. What can you tell me about it?"

He was starting to feel vaguely ill now. "I'd…I'd rather not speak of it now. It'd prob'ly just ruin dinner."

"Oh, it was…that bad?" Padmé asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," he nodded jerkily. He finally located the box with his breadsticks and _chaavi_ soup and scooped it up. "I should go."

"Please stay," Padmé pleaded. "It's been so long since I've seen you."

Vader made the mistake then of looking into her eyes. She'd missed him. And she wished to spend more time with him. How could he refuse?

* * *

Dinner ended too soon. But, as they say, all good things must come to an end. And so the calm, quiet meal ended and his doom approached. 

Thankfully touchy subjects didn't come up while they ate. Mostly it was just Padmé, Sabé, Moteé, and Ellé gossiping. Vader was quite content to just sit off to the side and work on his spicy soup.

But when the meal ended, he had no real excuse to avoid talking about Jabiim and other such things.

"So, Vader, tell me about Jabiim." Padmé sighed as she settled into her couch in her common room. Sabé took a seat to the Senator's right, and Moteé and Ellé sat to her left.

Vader huddled up on the loveseat across from the couch and felt himself pale. "What do you want to know?" He mumbled.

"What was the planet like?" Padmé asked.

"Miserable," Vader snorted. "Rained pretty much every day and there was mud everywhere. For a while I swear I forgot what it felt like to be dry."

"Eww," Sabé wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like a nightmare."

"You have no idea," Vader shuddered. _The trenches were rivers of mud and blood and–_

"What about the rumors?" One of the new Handmaidens, Ellé, asked.

"What rumors?" Vader asked softly, feeling sour dread congeal in his stomach.

"They say that all the Jedi on Jabiim were slaughtered," Ellé replied uncomfortably. "Though that can't be right because you're here."

Vader almost felt like he was dying then. "It's almost true. Almost." He had to swallow several times before he could force the rest out. "I'm the only one who made it back after the blockade."

"The _only_ one?" Padmé repeated very softly.

"The only one," he confirmed, his voice soft and raw.

"Then…Master Kenobi…?" Sabé murmured, trailing off without really asking a question.

Vader squeezed his eyes shut as the mention of his Master's name hit him like a sledgehammer. It hurt so much it took his breath away. A lightsaber strike to the heart would've hurt less.

The loveseat beneath him shifted and he opened his eyes to see that Padmé was now sitting next to him. She was hurting too, for his Master had been her friend. But she couldn't feel his loss as keenly as he could. She was Force-blind. And Vader envied her for it.

The tight agony in his chest migrated up into the back of his throat. Then it sent fiery needles into the backs of his eyes, making them water and blur. And then, as he struggled to hold it together, she took his flesh hand in hers and the walls came crashing down…

* * *

Padmé sighed shakily as she gently ran one hand through Vader's short spiky hair. She peered up through the glass ceiling of her apartment's common room at the now inky-black sky. The constant light pollution from all the buildings of Coruscant made it all but impossible to see any stars, even on the clearest nights. Such an empty sky made her long yet again for Naboo. 

Shuddering at the sense of emptiness the black night sky gave her, she looked back down at the young man who was now passed out and curled up on her loveseat. Poor Vader had sobbed himself into utter exhaustion on her shoulder. Now at least he seemed to be at peace. And Padmé was glad.

It had been shocking to see him break the way he had. When he'd been recovering on Naboo after Geonosis he'd probably cried, but she'd never seen it. He'd done it in private if he'd done it at all. So for him to break down and weep in front of her it…it just left her speechless.

Sabé quietly ghosted to her side, clutching a spare blanket to her chest. Wordlessly, her friend draped the blanket over Vader's unconscious form and then carefully began to peel the young man's boots off. Padmé slipped her hands under the blanket and removed Vader's utility blanket so that he didn't shift in sleep and lay on something uncomfortable.

Just as Padmé pulled the belt free, something on it beeped. She choked on a squeak and almost dropped it in surprise. When it shrilled again she quickly searched along the belt for the source of the noise, she didn't want it to wake Vader up when he'd just fallen asleep. By the third chime, she located the noisy device, a comm-link wailing for attention.

Padmé swiftly unhooked it and retreated to the far side of the room before switching it on. "Yes?" She answered softly.

There was a pause and then, "who is this?" It sounded like Master Windu.

"Senator Amidala of Naboo." She replied.

"How did you come to possess Padawan Vader's comm-link?" Master Windu asked slowly.

"I answered it for him since he's passed out on my couch." Padmé answered, smiling very faintly. "I assume you've been looking for him?"

"Yes," Master Windu sighed. "He was supposed to meet with Master Mundi but apparently decided to disappear instead."

"Well I apologize. It seems that he went for a walk and found himself assisting one of my Handmaidens in acquiring dinner. And then I insisted he stay and dine with us." Padmé apologized. "I should've thought to allow him some time to at least relay his changed plans back to the Temple."

"It is alright Senator, no real harm done." Master Windu assured her. "You said that he's passed out on your couch?"

"Yes," Padmé nodded even though she knew he couldn't see it. "He was…upset earlier."

"Upset?" Master Windu asked.

"I touched on some sensitive topics… Namely Master Kenobi and Jabiim." Padmé swallowed, knotting her free hand in the folds of her skirt.

"Ah," Master Windu mumbled.

"Do you require his presence back at the Temple or is he allowed to stay the night?" She asked, slipping into her more formal senatorial tones.

"He may stay. If his presence is not an inconvenience to you, that is." Master Windu replied.

"Good, then I shall send him back after breakfast?" Padmé smiled.

"Yes, good night Senator and thank you for looking after him." Master Windu sighed with a hint of gratitude.

"It is no problem Master Windu, good night." Padmé assured the Jedi and switched off the comm-link.

Padmé sighed tiredly and wandered back over to Sabé and the unconscious Vader. She hooked the comm back onto the utility belt and left it on the low table that crouched in the half-circle of furniture at the center of the room. After one last glance to see if Vader looked comfortable, she turned and headed for her own room with Sabé at her heels.

"You can go back to your own apartment now you know." Padmé sighed as she slipped into her bedroom. Moteé and Ellé had already left for their own quarters.

"I know," Sabé nodded quietly. "But I was wondering if I could stay in the guest room tonight so I could get an early start tomorrow."

Padmé sat on the edge of her bed and began taking her hair down from its elaborate style. "You're volunteering for extra work?" She asked dryly.

"Yes," Sabé nodded, walking over and helping extract the numerous hairpins from Padmé's head. "Or you could look at it like I'm too lazy to go back to my own place."

"Hmph, well, I guess you can spend the night." Padmé decided, infusing her tone with mock-reluctance.

"Thank you my Lady," Sabé grinned. "Always so generous."

"Go to bed Sabé," Padmé giggled softly, giving her friend a light shove. "You have to get up early and make us breakfast!"

"Fine, good night!" Sabé called softly and vanished off to the guest bedroom.

"Good night!" Padmé sighed at the Handmaiden's retreating form.

Now with her hair down, she carefully brushed it out while fishing a nightgown out of her drawers. She quickly shed her fancy dress and slipped into the light, simple nightdress and all but dove into her bed. But despite her weariness, sleep proved to be elusive and her eyes were continually drawn towards the common room.

_Please be alright,_ she prayed silently, _please make it through this…_


	36. 35: Hollow

**Note: **I was really bad and worked on this instead of some homework I really should've worked on... (cringes). Hope you like it. I _know _you'll like what's coming up next...

Also...I got over one hundred reviews! That's so crazy awesome! It's never happened to me before! _Thanks a bunch people!_

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* * *

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**Chapter 35**  
_Hollow_

He felt raw inside. Like coarse sand had been blasted through him, or glass shards. It hurt so much.

He tried to flee from the pain. He burrowed into the darkness that enveloped him, trying so very desperately to forget. If he forgot, disappeared into the blackness, then it would stop hurting. He didn't want to hurt anymore.

Something touched him. A gentle whisper of sensation. Before he could beat down his curiosity, it drew him out of the darkness enough to feel more.

He was laying on some sort of narrow, short bed. He was wrapped in a blanket and warm. His body was scrunched up to fit. And his boots and belt were missing. Light attacked his eyelids.

"You need to wake up now," an angel whispered.

Almost against his will his eyes opened. Colors slowly swirled from hazy blobs into sharper, more concrete shapes. And then he saw her.

"Sorry for waking you, but you need to get up now." Padmé apologized softly. "Breakfast is ready."

"Breakfast?" Vader croaked.

"Yes, it's morning now." Padmé explained.

Vader blinked stupidly. When did it become morning? Last he remembered, it was nighttime after dinner…

"Come on now," Padmé smiled, "Sabé got up early to make us some of her famous omelets."

"Okay," he mumbled faintly, slowly stiffly sitting up. And then he remembered something. "Oh no, I was supposed to meet with Master Mundi last night."

"I know, I spoke with Master Windu last night after you fell asleep." Padmé informed him.

"Am I in trouble?" He asked after a moment.

She shook her head. "No, but you'll have to go straight to the Temple after breakfast."

Vader nodded. That seemed fair enough. More than fair actually. He should've been dragged back to the Temple last night right after the call instead of being allowed to sleep over here.

Padmé gently took him by the wrist and led him into the dinning room. Sabé had laid out three plates on the table, each almost over-flowing with fluffy steaming omelets. Saber herself was already seated and waiting for them to arrive so she could eat.

He meekly submitted as Padmé pressed him into a chair. As soon as she settled herself down, the meal began. Both of the women eagerly tucked into their meal. But Vader just sat there and stared at his plate. He didn't feel hungry.

"Don't you like omelets?" Sabé asked, making him start a bit.

"I do, I'm just not hungry." He shrugged.

"Try it please?" Sabé begged. "I made it with a growing boy like you in mind."

"Thanks," Vader tried to smile, but couldn't.

Reluctantly he picked up his fork and speared a chunk of egg. It took a moment before he could get it in his mouth and chew it. And it took another minute before he could swallow it.

It didn't taste bad. It probably tasted amazing. But…well…he just wasn't all that hungry.

Feeling their eyes on him, he forced himself to continue. It would be a shame to waste this food that Sabé had worked hard on for him. And he had always been taught to never waste food. It had been almost as hard to come by as water. So he ate it all.

He was slightly startled when his fork finally scraped the empty plate. He hadn't noticed that he'd finished. Vader swallowed a sigh and put down his fork.

"I should go now," he mumbled. "Thanks for breakfast…"

"You're very welcome," Sabé smiled.

"Do you need a ride back to the Temple? I could get Captain Typho to take you." Padmé offered.

"No, I can walk. It's better for me anyway." He shrugged and got up to leave.

Sabé rose to clear away the dishes and Padmé stood and followed him back to the lift. "Will you be alright?" She asked, catching his elbow and keeping him from stepping in the waiting lift-car.

"I…I don't know," he mumbled wearily, avoiding her worried gave by staring at the floor.

She reached up and grasped his left hand, giving it a squeeze that she probably meant to be comforting. "Come over anytime you need to."

"Sure thing," he swallowed, trying to squirm past and escape.

"I mean it," she declared, then leaned forward and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Now take care of yourself."

Vader glanced up at her for a moment, managed to force a smile that was only half-insincere, and nodded. "I will," he murmured, squeezing her hand back and then extracting himself from her grip.

He kept the smile in place until the lift doors sealed shut. Then he slumped against the back wall of the lift-car and sighed. With an absent gesture, he depressed a button that would take him down to upper street level without physically touching it. And then he cringed as a memory of his Master's disapproving expression hit him, scolding him for his careless use of the Force.

The numb throbbing in his chest flared up into a fiery acidic burn while some invisible hand crushed his chest. He tried to breathe through it, let the pain bleed away with each exhalation. But the agony seemed to spring from a bottomless well, it just kept rising up and strangling him.

Desperate, he tried to distract himself by focusing on the positive. After all, Master had always complained that he focused too much on the negative. He tried to think about how nice dinner had been, how relaxing it was to just sit back, eat good food, and listen to friends chatter about fashion and gossip. He tried to think about how great it was that he and Padmé were practically friends now, that he now had an invitation to stop by whenever. He tried to think about the fact that Padmé had kissed him again. But it was no use.

The lift chimed and the doors opened on an upper-street-level lobby. Struggling to pull himself together, he pushed off the back wall of the lift-car and trudged through the lobby, out the front doors, and onto the street. And then he oriented himself towards the Temple and started walking…

* * *

Padmé stared at the closed lift doors for a minute, then sighed sadly and went to help Sabé with the dishes. Though by the time she reentered the dining room the table had already been cleared. Shaking her head slightly, she then headed for the kitchen. 

"Need any help?" Padmé asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Nope," Sabé replied, sliding the last plate into the dishwasher. "All done here."

"Sometimes I think you're too efficient." Padmé sighed.

"It's my job to be efficient," Sabé shrugged, "among other things."

"I know, but I wanted to help you." Padmé complained.

"You are a Senator of the Republic and your duty is to represent Naboo in the Galactic Senate, not wash dishes." Sabé retorted, taking the tone of a lecturing teacher.

"Yes teacher, I know," Padmé snorted teasingly.

"Good, glad that's been cleared up." Sabé nodded. "Now let's finish getting you ready to face the Senate."

"That can wait, the Senate won't come into session today until after lunch." Padmé waved her friend off. "I'll wait until Moteé and Ellé come before I primp myself any more."

"If you say so," Sabé shrugged, rinsing her hands off in the sink and then toweling them dry.

"I do say so," Padmé grinned faintly. "I say we take as much of the morning off as possible."

"No complaints here," Sabé smiled faintly back in response.

"Good, now let's get some caf and enjoy the morning." Padmé decided, rifling through the cabinets for some caf powder.

"Splendid," Sabé declared, digging out the caf pot and a couple of mugs.

Several minutes later, their caf was brewed, and they were sitting out on the apartment's balcony. Each clutched their mugs and nursed their drinks as they gazed out over the bustling cityscape of Coruscant. Neither spoke, too lost in thought to try and stimulate any conversation.

Padmé stared down into her mug, watching the thin tendrils of steam drift upwards until breezes that constantly blew at this altitude whisked it away. It was a lot like life, she mused despairingly. You rise upwards, spiraling with each new twist the galaxy throws at you, and then it's over. Gone when the winds of time decide to end things and blow you into oblivion.

_Obi-Wan deserved better,_ she sighed. _**Qui-Gon **deserved better! They should've died as old men, peacefully in their sleep after long fulfilling lives. Neither of them deserved to be snuffed out so suddenly, so brutally…_

"It's not fair," Sabé murmured, unconsciously voicing Padmé's own conclusion.

"I know," Padmé sighed sadly, glancing over at her friend, "I know."

Of all the Handmaiden's she'd worked with over the years, she was closest to Sabé. They'd become instant friends at the Academy and had kept in touch when Padmé left at age twelve as part of the Apprentice Legislator program. And when Padmé was elected to the throne, Sabé applied for one of the five Handmaiden slots.

Some of the other girls thought that favoritism was what had landed Sabé the position. They thought that because she and the new Queen were so close that Padmé had arranged for Sabé to become a Handmaiden ahead other more qualified applicants. But that simply wasn't true.

Sabé had won her spot entirely on her own merit. Padmé had very little to do with the choosing of Handmaidens, she merely finalized their selection. Relying on her own wits and skills, not to mention her almost uncanny resemblance to the newly elected monarch, she had survived the harsh screening process.

Because of her strong resemblance to Padmé, Sabé was immediately put first in line for decoy duty. It also helped that she knew Padmé so well that she could imitate her speech patterns and predict most of her decisions. With the horrid 'royal accent' and the heavy ceremonial face paint, it was all but impossible for any but the other Handmaidens and Captain Panaka to tell them apart.

Practicing the switch had always been fun. In the first months after Padmé's rise to the throne, it was a common prank for her and Sabé to switch places without warning anyone and see how long it took for them to notice what they'd done. It was a fun prank to pull on the other Handmaidens and it gave Padmé a little time off, time to be herself in some place other than her private chambers. No one had ever seriously thought they'd need to use it for real.

But that was before the Trade Federation come and blockaded the planet. No ships could come, no ships could go. Without outside trade, the people began to suffer. And then when their last hope – the Jedi Ambassadors – failed, they _did_ use it for real.

Sabé played the role of Queen from their capture by the droids all the way up until their arrival on Coruscant. During that time, Padmé was not Amidala, but merely the simple Handmaiden Padmé Naberrie. She did her best to help Sabé with the decisions as subtly as possible, but it was up to Sabé to actually make the choices and carry through with the elaborate charade.

When Padmé decided to retake Naboo herself instead of waiting for the Galactic Senate to get it's act together, Sabé again took up the costume of the Queen. She became the focus of all the battle droids and their blasters. And with luck and probably some divine intervention, Sabé survived it all, playing her own crucial part in capturing the Federation Viceroy.

And then when the dust settled and she returned to her usual role of Royal Handmaiden, she took on a new and challenging duty. Busy with cleaning up the spectacular mess the Trade Federation left behind, Padmé was forced to focus exclusively on her queenly duties and so left the entertaining of her guests to her Handmaidens. Sabé specifically was placed in charge of looking after Padawan-turned-Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It was up to Sabé to see that he ate and slept regularly, and to make sure that he was comfortable. For just under two weeks while the Council gave him leave, Obi-Wan remained in the Palace and Sabé mothered him. Or at least she mothered him as much as he let her. He was a grown man and a Jedi after all.

All in all, it had been a rough couple of months. First the stressful blockade, then the hectic run to Coruscant, then the return and battle, and then looking after a grieving Jedi. And Sabé had handled it all very well.

Padmé could not put into words how proud she was of her oldest friend. Nor could she described how grateful she was of her friend's service and continued service. Sabé was simply amazing and Padmé was humbled and honored to count her as a friend.

_Poor Sabé,_ Padmé sighed to herself as she studied her friend. _She was just as close, if not closer, to Obi-Wan than I was…_

_

* * *

_

Sabé knew her caf was starting to get cold, but she really didn't care. She watched the endless streams of airspeeders and various other air transports without really seeing them. The moving colored dots were just an elaborate pattern that she used to distract her eyes, though it wasn't quite enough to distract her thoughts.

Obi-Wan was gone. The Padawan, Knight, Master that she had worked alongside and served no longer existed. She'd never see or speak to him again.

Now she regretted not taking advantage of his last stay in the Palace like she could've. In fact, she'd avoided him altogether and instead had focused all her attention and energies on keeping the injured Vader going. And all for a stupid, stupid reason.

When she'd first met him during the Federation blockade over ten years ago she was trapped in the guise of Queen Amidala. Nonetheless, she'd been deeply impressed by him. He was skilled in his Jedi craft, brave, clever, and handsome. And there was her problem.

Shortly after meeting him, she developed a crush on him. It was totally understandable on the one hand. He was, as previously mentioned, handsome, clever, brave, and skilled. Rabé and Eirtaé, who had also come along on the trip to Coruscant, had spent most of the transit time commenting on how cute the Jedi Padawan was, implied that they might've harbored a slight crush on him themselves.

The problem with having a crush on Obi-Wan was manifold. At the time, she was playing the Queen of Naboo. Queen Amidala was a mature, if young, ruler of an entire planet, and she did not develop crushes on any handsome young men she might work with. There was an age difference, he being in his mid-twenties and her being a mere teenager. And then there was the fact that he was a Jedi, a person who had long ago forsworn intimate, long-lasting relationships with the opposite gender.

It was a pointless infatuation. It would never, could never, be anything more than a one-sided fantasy. And it was a distraction that she could not afford.

So she quashed it with all of her will. She focused on her duties and banished all silly daydreams from her mind. While waiting on Tatooine, she put all her energies into impersonating the Queen and reading anything she could get her hands on. During the battle of Naboo, she immersed herself in Captain Panaka's training and ignored the fact that Obi-Wan and his Master were fighting some mysterious dark warrior alone. And after the battle, she buried herself in her duties, not really resting until all the off-world guests had moved on.

Then, when Obi-Wan returned to the Palace after Geonosis, she'd avoided him to prevent whatever forgotten embers of the old infatuation from flaring up again. She spent all her time with Vader, when she spent any time with the Jedi guest at all. And on the day the Jedi were to leave for Coruscant and their Temple, she arranged to have a day off and miss the big farewell that she knew would come.

And in doing so, she blew her last chance to see Obi-Wan. Just because she was afraid of a stupid little crush resurrecting itself. _Moteé and Ellé are right,_ Sabé sighed, _I'm a fool…_

Of course their poor opinion of her had nothing to do with her old secret crush on an unobtainable man. They instead based it on what they saw as her lack of professionalism. Because she didn't act like a cool, detached servant in private like she did in public, they didn't think much of her.

But they were ignoring the fact that she _did_ act that way when Padmé entertained important guests. Just because she acted warmer and more friendly when it was just Padmé and some close friends didn't make her a bad Handmaiden. Moteé and Ellé were just a tad too uptight for Sabé's taste. It was really too bad that they were so well qualified and approved of by both Captain Panaka _and _Captain Typho.

Sabé took a sip of her caf and grimaced a little. It was somewhere between lukewarm and cold. And caf that cool tasted _nasty_.

"Let your caf get cold, did you?" Padmé asked.

"Yeah, hate it when I do that." Sabé scowled slightly.

"Want me to get you some more?" Padmé offered.

"No, wasn't much in the mood for caf anyway," Sabé shrugged.

Padmé sat silently for a moment. "Want to go back in now?"

"Sure," Sabé nodded, "it's getting a bit too windy out." To punctuate that statement, a particularly strong gust blew some of her loose hair into her face. "I, for one, do not enjoy eating my own hair." She added, once she tucked her loose locks behind her ears.

"Agreed," Padmé smiled, "let's go."

Sabé nodded again and led the way back in. She took her mug and Padmé's into the kitchen to dump the leftover liquid down the drain and dump the cups off in the dishwasher. That little task accomplished, she rejoined Padmé who had remained in the common room, just in time for Moteé and Ellé to arrive.

"Good morning ladies," Sabé greeted her fellow Handmaidens.

Moteé and Ellé merely nodded stiffly back in greeting. Sabé muffled a sigh and instead focused on her current duty, to make Padmé presentable to the Senate. Since she'd already cooked breakfast, she won the simple task of sorting through Padmé's jewelry collection and find pieces that accented the dress that Moteé chose and the hair and make-up style that Ellé came up with.

_Ah, the glorious life of a Handmaiden. Not only do we defend our Lady from harm with blasters and impersonations, but we also make her pretty for the cameras. What a life we lead…_

_

* * *

_

Vader made it back to the Temple and his apartment without incident. Before tracking down Master Mundi, he took the time to shower and dress in fresh, unwrinkled robes. He would've shaved, but he generally only had to shave every other day and he'd shaved yesterday so he was good for today.

When he came out of the refresher, Master Mundi sat waiting for him. The white-haired Cerean did not look particularly pleased. But then again, Vader couldn't really remember ever seeing any of the Council Members look pleased except for Master Yoda. And Master Yoda didn't really count because Vader harbored a suspicion that the ancient troll was entering the early stages of senility.

"Good morning Padawan Vader," Master Mundi greeted sternly, "though one could almost say 'good afternoon'."

Vader supposed he ought to feel some regret for disappointing his new temporary guardian, or maybe some anxiety, but he didn't. "My apologies Master Mundi," he murmured, bowing respectfully. "I did not mean to disappear and miss our meeting."

"Please do your best to not let it happen again." Master Mundi admonished. "Now come with me to the sparring rooms. A'Sharad and I shall test you to see what exactly you know."

Vader bowed again and feel in step behind the Cerean Master as they exited the apartment and headed for the sparring gym. Outwardly, his expression was calm and utterly blank. Inwardly, he squirmed in discomfort.

It felt wrong to be following a different Jedi the way he'd followed his Master. It was probably just habit, but the sensation of following someone else was very disquieting. With his luck, terrible as it was, it always would be that way for him.

Thankfully it wasn't too long of a walk to their destination. A'Sharad was already waiting for them there. Once he finished the warm-up kata he'd been performing, he bowed to them and stood at one end of the sparring mat, waiting.

Numbly Vader took a position opposite A'Sharad. He unhooked his saber and dialed down its intensity to something well below lethal, then stood ready. A'Sharad did the same with his saber.

Then Master Mundi gave the signal. "Begin!"

* * *

Vader limped into his bedroom and fell onto his sleep couch. It was hard to find any part of him that didn't hurt. To say that Master Mundi's 'test' hadn't gone well was something of an understatement. 

After an hour of A'Sharad kicking his butt all around the sparring mat, the Cerean Jedi had finally called the match off. The Jedi Master had been disappointed, that much was clear. He'd even gone so far as to wonder aloud what Obi-Wan had been teaching him all this time.

That comment had hurt. Vader had wanted to snap back that his Master had taught him a lot. That he knew enough to knock A'Sharad into next week without breaking a sweat. But he didn't, because A'Sharad was there watching and listening, and because he hadn't proved how good he really was.

He hadn't been able to hold his focus. He hadn't really cared about what he was doing. And A'Sharad had. So the Tusken wannabe had won, and he had lost. Quite spectacularly in fact.

After ending the test and questioning Vader's apparent appalling lack of skill, Ki-Adi-Mundi sat him down and explained what would be happening. For the rest of this week, Padawan Hett and Master Mundi would train with Vader and hopefully get him battle ready. At the end of the week, they were to ship out to the Varonat System and deal with its skyrocketing piracy problem.

_Looks like they're takin' me out of the war,_ Vader sighed bitterly. _After losing Master and all that mess on Jabiim, don't suppose I can blame them…_

It wasn't even dinner time yet, the sun wasn't even close to setting, but Vader'd had enough for the day. Moving stiffly, he kicked off his boots, peeled off his belt, and burrowed under his sheets. _Mornings are gonna suck, but at least the afternoons are mine to waste as I please…_


	37. 36: The Great Escape!

**Chapter 36**  
_The Great Escape!_

He couldn't say for sure exactly how long he'd been here. There weren't any chronometers or calendars present. Nor could he say where 'here' was. There weren't any windows in his personal cell. What he did know was that he hurt all over, was chained, most of his face was concealed by a mask, and he couldn't feel the Force.

It was truly disturbing to not feel the living energy field flowing around and through him. Being raised in the Temple, he'd always been aware of it. The Force was always there, he'd never known a time without it. But now…now he was being schooled in how the Force-blind felt and lived.

The mask, he decided, was what was cutting him off from the Force. The manacles that bound his wrists and ankles felt quite ordinary to his probing fingertips. The mask that covered his face, however, felt unusually thick and heavy and there were sharp points on the inside that jabbed into his temples.

During research in the Jedi Archives in his younger years, he'd stumbled across some information concerning the Sith. The Dark Order, the ancient tome contended, possessed all manner of torture devices. That included devices that could torment a Jedi by temporarily severing them from the Force. The only way to be released from the torture implements was to have them removed or to surrender to their rage and Fall to the Darkness.

He refused to do that. He was trained to be better than that. He _was _better than that. He was a Jedi. He would sooner die than surrender to the Darkness.

The rusty metal door suddenly screeched open, the lower edge grating shrilly against the uneven stone floor. It made him start a bit, but he recovered his composure before his visitor noticed. If she spied his surprise, she would taunt him endlessly about it.

The bright light that blasted through the open doorway blinded him. His cell was pitch black except when he had a visitor. So the sudden brightness blinded him as it stabbed at and burned his eyes. He refused to flinch; he merely closed his eyes and waited for them to adjust.

When he could open his eyelids again, he saw his visitor crouching before him through the narrow eye-slits of the mask. She was a pale hairless humanoid with milky white, blind-looking eyes. Her slender frame implied frailty, though he knew that was an illusion. On each hip hung a black-and-silver curved lightsaber hilt that brought to mind Count Dooku's unique style of saber handle.

She studied him compassionlessly for endless minutes before deciding to speak. "How are you feeling?" Her voice was dry, almost a hiss.

"Well enough," he croaked.

In reality he could use some water and food. But if he mentioned that, it was guaranteed to cost him whatever rations his visitor, and coincidentally his captor, felt like giving him today. It was just one of the many ways she tried to break him.

"I see," she murmured. "I'll have to do something about that," she decided, her tone laced with subtle menace.

He swallowed thickly, mentally cursing his dry cracked throat. That tone of voice promised today was going to be especially unpleasant. He silently braced himself for whatever was to come.

A deceptively fragile-looking fist slammed into his stomach and drove the air out of him. If he'd had anything to eat recently, he probably would've thrown up too. He was briefly glad she'd decided not to feed him yesterday.

Then she stood and adjusted his chains. Instead of leaving them loose enough for him to sit somewhat comfortably on the rough floor of his cell, she cinched them tight enough to force him to half-stand. Normally such a position wouldn't have been much of a problem for him, but now beaten, exhausted, and malnourished, it was a struggle.

She smiled humorlessly down at him and made as if to leave. But then she turned back at the last moment to gave him a few tiny sips of water. And then she left for real, slamming the heavy metal door behind her, leaving him in darkness once more.

Now free from her scrutiny, he stiffly slumped to his knees, his arms stretched painfully over his head. The awkward position made it difficult to breathe. His stomach burned from the punch and the fact that it was so empty. His legs ached and trembled already from kneeling and he was quickly losing feeling in his knees. And if his knees gave out, he risked dislocating one or both of his shoulders.

Something skittered in the darkness. Probably some local species of pest. But what it was and what it looked like was a mystery. It was too dark to see anything and he couldn't sense it through the Force. The skittering sounds were annoying, though it was something to focus on aside from his considerable physical discomfort.

Early in his imprisonment, he would've spent the long stretches in darkness thinking. Without the chaos and tragedy of the war to distract him, he could think about whatever he wanted for almost as long as he wanted. And that had led to unexpected consequences: he'd actually run out of things he wanted to think about.

Shocking, but true. He, the man who stayed up late just for private time to think, had run out of things to think about. He'd run through all the events of his life thus far, even the painful ones. And then he'd pondered the countless mysteries and questions that he had come across.

Like, who was the mysterious Sith Lord who pulled the Count's strings? How far did the Dark Side conspiracies stretch? How deep did they run? Who was involved? Who wasn't? What was Vader's real name and where was he from?

On the first question, he got nowhere very quickly. The Sith Master had to be someone very strong to have a former Jedi Master as an _apprentice_. He would also have to be very clever and very, very patient to remain so well hidden for so long.

Concerning the treacheries of the Dark Side, he had a slightly better idea. The Sith apprentice he'd killed, the heavily tattooed Zabrak Darth Maul, had surfaced during the Naboo crisis. That suggested that the Sith were behind the Trade Federation's actions, twisting and manipulating. But for what purpose?

And then there was Count Dooku, also known as Darth Tyranus, and his involvement in current events. First he was tied to the assassination attempts on Senator Amidala's life, which turned out to be a pacifying gesture to soothe the honor of the Federation. Then he influenced the Separatists down the path to war and he continued to control and defend the leaders of the 'Confederation of Independent Systems'.

Regarding who and who wasn't involved, it was difficult to say. Clearly the mysterious Sith Lord and Count Dooku were involved. And of course his captor, Asajj Ventress, had ties to the Sith and their conspiracies…

He'd met her once before his current imprisonment. After her failed attempt to unleash an experimental biological weapon on a Gungan colony moon, he'd tracked her to Queyta, the planet where the weapon had been produced. There she delivered him a message from Count Dooku, a second offer to join the Separatists. He of course refused her and she managed to flee and cause problems elsewhere.

Now she held him prisoner Force knew where. She controlled his fate and seemed to relish that fact. Everything she did was coldly calculated to make him suffer, to try and break him. Why was impossible for him to say, she never shared her reasoning with him, her prisoner.

And on the last question he pondered the most, Vader, he knew a little more than he'd known initially, but not much. He hadn't the faintest idea what the boy's name was. All he knew was that it wasn't Vader. And as to where he was from, he only had vague hints. Count Dooku had referred to Vader as a 'desert rat' on Geonosis, which led to the idea that he was from an arid, dry planet. It was almost certainly in the Outer Rim, a place where the Jedi Order would've missed him. There was also a chance that pod racing was practiced there, seeing as Vader seemed to have an interest in the sport. But beyond that, he really didn't know.

The door to his cell moaned open again and he wearily braced himself for another encounter with the pale Asajj. However, when his vision cleared from the blinding light that rushed in through the open door, it wasn't her. It was…

"Alpha?" He croaked, shocked and confused.

"None other," the clone trooper muttered as he crouched down and worked on the manacles with a bent piece of wire.

"How did you get here?" He blinked. The clone, one of the specialized, highly trained ARC troopers, had been striped of his armor, and was left in some tattered gray clothing. Without his white concealing armor, he looked exactly like the man he'd been cloned from, the now deceased Jango Fett.

"Same way you got here, General." Alpha replied, getting one wrist free and then shifting his focus on the other.

"I must admit," he muttered reluctantly, "I don't really recall how I got here. One moment the walker was exploding, and the next I was in this dratted mask and chained here in the dark."

"Right, you were unconscious pretty much the whole time," Alpha remembered. The other wrist came free and the clone now worked the right ankle. The General gladly sank to the floor, allowing his trembling legs to rest.

"Well, after the walker hit the ground," Alpha continued, "I dragged you from the wreckage. I was about to go back and see if I could get any more men out when a rocket totally vaporized it. It knocked me out for a while, and when I came to, we were aboard some bounty hunter's ship going who-knows-where. You were still out cold and had that mask on." The ankle manacle snapped open and the ARC trooper moved on to the last one.

"What's with that mask anyway?" The clone asked, half-curiously.

"It seems to be a Force-blocking device." The General sighed. "In my current condition, I'm afraid I won't be much help in escaping."

Alpha got the last manacle off and rocked back on his heels, considering this new development. "Hmm…" He mused, shifting to study the mask that covered his commander's head. After a few minutes he sighed. "Unless we stumble over a key for this, it'll have to be cut off." Alpha decided. "We'll have to do without your Jedi powers General Kenobi."

"Blast," Obi-Wan groaned as the ARC trooper helped pull him to his feet. "How did you get free?"

"Apparently our host doesn't think as much of a little old clone like me than she does of a Jedi like you." Alpha snorted as he led the weakened, limping Jedi out of his cell. "She had me under much lower security. And wire works wonders."

"Ah, I see," Obi-Wan muttered hoarsely. "Where to from here?" He wondered, looking up and down the labyrinth of hallways that existed beyond his cell.

"Not sure," Alpha sighed unhappily. "Didn't get as much reconnaissance done as I would've liked to. It took me too long to find your cell to wait much longer to find a good way out."

"Well, it's more exciting this way," Obi-Wan replied with exceedingly dry sarcasm.

"Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor, General." Alpha chuckled softly.

From there, they moved as silently as possible. That was both to keep them from being detected and to hear any guard patrols coming and hide from them. It was slow going.

Alpha was in decent enough shape. He was from tough stock, cloned from a bounty hunter who had been bold enough and skilled enough to go toe-to-toe with a Jedi. He also had escaped from the walker explosion relatively unscathed. And he hadn't suffered any directed torture like his General had, he had mostly been neglected.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was in really sorry shape. After suffering through Asajj's _loving_ attentions for as long as he had, it was surprising that he could still stand, let alone walk. He had sores on his ankles and wrists where the manacles had bound him. His boots were missing, leaving him barefoot, which didn't help matters. He hadn't had a proper meal or drink of water since he'd been here, leaving him weak and easily exhausted. His body was all skin and bones, a mess of bruises and abrasions. And of course his lightsaber was long gone, leaving him with the uncomfortable, vague sensation of being naked.

The first few hallways they traversed were no problem. But their good fortune didn't last long. Soon they heard the clatter of marching droids coming their way. Thankfully, an open door was nearby and they ducked into the room on the other side of it to wait for the coast to clear.

As they waited, Obi-Wan glanced around the room. It looked like an armory to his eyes. Or a trophy room.

There were all sorts of weapons on counters, shelves, and racks. Some were primitive: spears, knives, swords, and the like. Other were more sophisticated, like blasters and vibro-axes. And in a place of honor (or at least it looked like it was a place of honor) lay a lightsaber hilt. It wasn't his, but it would do.

While Alpha kept his ear pressed against the door, listening, Obi-Wan hobbled over to retrieve the weapon. He was in no shape to use the thing, but it made him feel better to have one handy. At the very least, it could be used to cut holes in doors, walls, or the floor.

When Alpha determined the coast was clear, he snagged a blaster and a vibro-blade and they left the room behind. From there, they had two more close calls with droid patrols, but they were never spotted or caught. And then they found their way away from this forbidding stone fortress.

They managed to stumble their way into a cavernous hanger bay. One medium-sized vessel, possibly belonging to a bounty hunter or some other Separatist ally, sat near the hanger entrance. The other ships that filled the hanger were six exotic looking fighters.

"I don't think Lady Ventress will miss one of those," Obi-Wan murmured, pointing to one of the nearest fighters. "Shall we?"

"Yes, sir," Alpha agreed.

The ARC trooper assisted his disabled General over and then into the odd-looking fighter. It was something of a struggle for the clone to get the weakened Jedi up into the spherical cockpit, but he managed. And then after strapping his commander into the co-pilot's seat, Alpha worked on figuring out the controls.

Obi-Wan left the clone to do his work. He was exhausted after all that tromping around Asajj's headquarters and was having a hard enough time staying awake. Sleep tugged at his eyelids, but he didn't dare rest until they made it safely off-planet and into hyperspace.

In minutes, Alpha had the fighter online and warming up. It looked like they just might get away without being caught. But, of course just as Obi-Wan thought this, a patrol of battle droids marched in.

"Prisoners are escaping!" The patrol leader observed in it's odd monotone. All the droids drew their blaster rifles and pointed them at the fighter. "Come out of there with your hands up!"

"Not a chance," Alpha grunted and locked the fighter's dual laser cannons on the droids. He depressed the firing trigger a few times and the cannons responded, blowing the entire patrol away. "We're leaving."

And then the ARC trooper activated the fighter's engines. They lifted off and sped out of the hanger, hopefully avoiding any further interruptions to their escape. As Alpha worked to get them out of the atmosphere, Obi-Wan busied himself with plotting a destination.

While scrolling through the NavComp, he caught glimpses of the shrinking landscape of their current location, a world the NavComp labeled Rattatak. It was just as forbidding as the stone fortress they'd just left. The planet appeared to be an arid one, dotted with jagged mountain ranges and vast stretches of dry bare land. Obi-Wan was quite glad to leave it behind.

Eventually the Jedi Master settled on a backwater world called Riflor. It was close to Rattatak compared to some other choices he'd considered and was safely within Republic space. Having no resources of any interest, little significant trade, and being well off the more traveled routes, it would likely remain safe from the war. It was perfect.

As he locked in the coordinates, Alpha broke out of the atmosphere into the black starry void of space. And then he found the switch that spread the fighter's S-foils. When they spread open, they turned the long thin fighter into a delicate half-circular fan shape. It was certainly a very interesting and unique design.

"Pretty thing isn't it," Alpha muttered as he raced for the hyper-limit. So far no one was chasing them, but that could change at any moment.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded, slumping back weakly into his seat. "Let's get out of here."

"Yes, _sir_!" Alpha replied and flipped the switch that stretched the dots of stars into lines and then warped them into writing blue mists.

They had made it.

They were free…


	38. 37: Bond

**Chapter 37**  
_Bond_

Vader stared blankly out of the cockpit of his Jedi Starfighter. He, along with Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi and his weirdo Padawan A'Sharad Hett, was currently running a patrol through the Varonat system. And his mind couldn't be further from what he was supposed to be doing.

Normally piloting excited him, even the boring patrol flight like this one. But that definition of 'normal' had been defined before Jabiim. Before–

It no longer applied. Nothing really got him excited anymore. Not a lightsaber duel with a challenging opponent. Not a complex space battle that called upon his incredible piloting skills. Not even hug and kiss from Padmé could break through his lingering melancholy.

He was trapped deep in a smothering numbness. He had ceased to work at his best. And he simply couldn't bring himself to care.

_Was this how you felt after Qui-Gon died, Master?_ He wondered, feeling his chest constrict slightly. _Did you feel so numb? So lost? So empty?_

Of course there was no answer. There never would an answer. Never, ever.

Master Mundi led Vader and his Padawan into a high orbit over Varonat II, the first of two inhabited worlds in the system. There they would wait for a few hours for any pirate activity before landing. While they waited, they would meditate. Just like they had every day for the whole week they'd been here.

Closing his eyes, Vader drifted into a meditative trance. As he did, the numbing aching sensation of his chest sharpened. It made it harder to meditate, but he meditated all the same. He deserved the pain.

Intellectually he knew there was nothing he could've done. He had been too far away. Even if he had taken off at the first sensation of warning, he wouldn't have made any difference. But while the logical part of his mind accepted this, the rest of him did not.

As his meditation deepened, he slipped into a state where he could clearly see Force signatures. Everything in the universe had a presence in the Force. Living things, of course, shone much brighter than non-living things like machines, and Force-sensitive things shone brighter still.

Nearby he could 'see' Master Mundi and A'Sharad. Both their signatures, or auras, were calm and controlled. They shone with serenity and peace. And if he peered close enough, he could see the thin chord of light that connected them, the bond that all Jedi Masters shared with their Padawans.

He'd never had that. If, in the beginning, he'd been required to form one with his Master, he would've refused. Dooku had amused himself by barraging into Vader's mind unannounced and uninvited and causing him pain, paralyzing him, or projecting horrifying images. After two years of that, the very thought of touching minds with another Force-sensitive scared him near the point of physical illness. And a training bond was like a touching of minds on an almost permanent basis. He never would've stood for that.

Now, he found himself regretting that. He would never know what it felt like to have that kind of connection to anyone. He would never know because he had no desire to bond with anyone else.

Vader hovered in deep meditation for a while before slowly rising out of it. As he did, the ache slowly, very slowly, receded. And then…and then something…strange happened.

The hurt went away. The numb, pulsing ache inside simply stopped. The sense of loss vanished. And it was replaced with a rush of deep relief that…that mainly wasn't his.

That wasn't possible. And it was really weird. Feeling more curious than he'd been in a long time, he examined this odd phenomenon.

He narrowed his focus to this feeling, this mysterious rush of foreign relief. He sent a little mental feeler right into the middle of it and poked around. And what he found knocked him back in his seat.

When he went to places that his Master had frequented, their apartment especially, he felt echoes of the older man's presence. A ghostly whisper of the Jedi Master's existence that lingered like the smell of his favorite tea. But what he felt buried in the relief was definitely more than an echo. And it came with a word.

Snapping his eyes open, Vader entered the word into the NavComp and got a hit. Locking the resulting coordinates into the computer, he broke orbit without a word. He only stayed in-system long enough to pick up the booster ring he'd need for hyperspace travel.

As he made the jump he supposed Master Mundi and A'Sharad were wondering what the kriff he was doing. They were probably even yelling at him. But he couldn't hear them. And then he was gone.

* * *

Obi-Wan was so relieved. Finally the mask had come off! Now he could feel the Force again. And it felt _so _good.

Getting it off, though, had been something of a trial. After landing on an uninhabited portion of Riflor, Alpha had dragged him out of the stolen fighter's cockpit and set himself to the problem of the mask. There was no real keyhole, so there was no way to pick any lock. And there were no visible hinges that he could attack either. So in the end, Alpha had had to take the stolen lightsaber to the thing.

That had been a rather nerve-wracking experience. Alpha had never really handled a lightsaber before, and not being a Jedi meant that he didn't have the Force to help guide the blade and keep it safely away from Obi-Wan's vital parts. So the clone had taken over a half an hour, making careful little slices in the metal, until the blasted thing had finally deactivated and fallen away.

Now the weary Jedi Master slumped against a tree trunk and relaxed. He'd just had a nice long drink of water, the best drink he'd had in just over a month. And though he still felt terrible, it wasn't as bad as before.

Alpha had gone off to do some exploring and perhaps find some small town. If he did find a town he would try and get some supplies and perhaps a message home. But if he didn't, he'd see what kind wild edibles he could scare up for them.

Obi-Wan's eyes drifted closed as he waited and rested. He probably shouldn't be so relaxed. Ventress had certainly discovered their escape by now and was most likely searching for them. To avoid recapture, they really shouldn't have landed here and instead gone on to Coruscant or some other Republic base.

But he'd desperately needed to get that mask off. And if they had gone straight to Republic forces, they might well have been shot down. They were flying a stolen enemy fighter after all. So this stop had allowed him to get the mask off and rest while he and Alpha contemplated how they could safely rejoin the Republic without being blown out of the sky.

His eyes were closed now, and his mind floated off into a light meditative trance. The warm shining Light flowed all around him, through him. Oh how he had missed this! He felt as though he'd been trapped in a nightmare for an eternity and was sudden now in heaven. It brought a faint smile to his face.

Then the smile faded as worries that had piled up in the back of his brain tumbled to the forefront of his mind. What had happened during his imprisonment? How was the war going? Who was winning? And Vader, what had happened to him? How was he holding up on his own? Had he…Fallen?

Now frowning, Obi-Wan began to actively meditate. His awareness slowly spiraled outwards from his seated position at the base of the tree on Riflor. He tried to focus on reaching Coruscant where Vader surely was if he had remained with the Jedi, but his progress was slow and unsteady. He simply lacked the strength to hold his focus steady and strong enough. He kept at it though, it was important that he at least make contact so those at the Temple knew he was still alive.

"Master?" A hoarse whisper. A presence at his side, hands on his shoulders, gently shaking. "Master? W-wake up."

Slowly, very slowly, Obi-Wan pulled out of his trance, never making it as far as he'd wanted. He opened his eyes to stare into another pair of eyes. They weren't Alpha's dark, nearly black eyes. They were a clear, pure blue, and glassy with unshed tears.

"Master?" Vader whispered, his voice thick and raw.

"Hello there," Obi-Wan blinked, "when did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago." Vader swallowed. "Wh-when did you get h-here?"

"A few hours ago, I think." Obi-Wan replied softly. "How are you?"

"I…I…I…" Vader choked, and then he abandoned all attempts at normal conversation and simply clutched onto Obi-Wan and sobbed.

Obi-Wan flinched a bit as Vader's tight grip aggravated his injuries, but he didn't make any complaint. Instead he weakly patted the young man's back, doing his best to try and comfort him. He couldn't really tell if that was helping much, Vader just kept weeping, projecting almost overwhelming waves of anguish intermixed with relief. Then finally…

"Next time you decide to die on me, actually _die_ damnit!" Vader gasped between sobs. "I'm sick of crying over this!"

"I'll try and keep that in mind next time." Obi-Wan chuckled dryly.

"You better," Vader sniffed, his shuddering sobs beginning to subside. "I hate crying…"

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed, "I know. Now how did you find me?"

"I…I'm not s-sure." Vader mumbled into Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I…felt you and…and I c-came to find you… Missed you. It-it hurt."

Obi-Wan was puzzled and slightly troubled by that response. It made no sense. Vader should not have been able to locate him so quickly. He shouldn't have been able to sense him so clearly over so vast a distance. And while missing him was normal, when Vader mentioned pain Obi-Wan sensed it was more complex than that, and that shouldn't have happened. But he said nothing about it, deciding to worry about more when he had the energy to do so.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan apologized softly. "I didn't mean to disappear and upset you."

"I know," Vader sighed, reluctantly leaning away from Obi-Wan to rub the sleeve of his cloak over his damp eyes. "I-I feel better now, though."

"Good," Obi-Wan smiled weakly. "Glad to hear that."

Vader rocked back on his heels and looked Obi-Wan over. His expression slowly darkened as it seemed he didn't like what he was seeing. "You look like hell Obi-Wan," he said finally. "What happened to you? Who did this to you?"

"Then I suppose I look nearly as bad as I feel," Obi-Wan shrugged limply. He purposely ignored the two questions.

Vader didn't seem willing to let it go. "You didn't answer my questions."

"It doesn't matter right now." Obi-Wan replied, brushing the questions aside.

"Answer me," Vader demanded, his voice icy and brittle.

Obi-Wan calmly looked into Vader's eyes, now slightly red-rimmed and swollen from crying. "It's not important right now." Obi-Wan responded. "What _is _important is that you, I, and Alpha get back to Coruscant as soon as possible."

Vader's jaw tensed and it looked like he was going to argue, but he dropped the subject in favor of a new question. "Who's Alpha?"

"He was one of the ARC troopers from Jabiim." Obi-Wan explained. "You may have worked with him once or twice."

Vader looked thoughtful before shrugging. "Maybe. So is he around here?"

"He's supposed to be. See if you can't find him and bring him back so we can leave." Obi-Wan sighed.

"Yes Master," Vader groaned as he lurched to his feet to do as he was told.

While Vader tracked down the absent Alpha, Obi-Wan closed his eyes again and worked to gather what was left of his strength. With Vader to escort them back to Republic space, they were set. All that was left to do was to get back together, get back in the fan-blade fighter, and lift off.

* * *

Vader sat in a chair in a hallway of the Healers' wing of the Jedi Temple and waited with barely maintained patience. This hall was mostly deserted as it was beginning to get late. Every now and then a Healer, someone studying to be a Healer, a patient, or a medical droid would walk past, but aside from that it was eerily empty and silent. He didn't mind that though. He just sat and waited.

Several hours previous to this, he had escorted Alpha the ARC trooper and his Master in a stolen fighter into the Temple's hanger. The Jedi in charge of traffic control at the time hadn't known what to think, nor had the hanger staff, seeing the exotic stolen ship sitting there on a landing pad. And they fell into a panicked sort of excitement when Alpha dragged Obi-Wan's semi-conscious, beat-all-to-hell form out of the cockpit with him.

From that point it had been a flurry of motion as Master Kenobi was rushed to the Healers. Vader had tried to follow, but a displeased-looking Master Windu had detained him. It seemed he'd heard from Master Mundi and the dark-skinned Jedi Master had given him a long lecture about responsibility and following orders. Vader had really, _really_ wanted to just ram his right metal fist into Master Windu's face, but he squashed the desire and sat back and took it.

When Master Windu finally finished ranting and let him go with some stupid punishment that he'd already forgotten, Vader had come straight here. The Healers were examining Obi-Wan and treating his injuries so he'd had to sit outside the room and wait. And he was still waiting.

"It is late Padawan, you should return to your quarters." A soft voice suggested.

Vader glanced up from staring at his boots to see a silver-eyed Mon Calamari woman standing next to his chair. "I think I'll stay here." He said after a moment.

"Oh," she blinked her enormous bugling eyes in surprise, "are you waiting for something?"

"Yes," he replied and went back to staring at his boots.

She was surprised and displeased by his answer, he could sense. But he didn't care. He was waiting to be allowed to visit his Master and he wasn't going to leave until he did that.

The door to Obi-Wan's room hissed open and a Jedi Healer and a few medical droids exited. The Healer, a female Zabrak, looked worn out as she rubbed at the base of her temple horns. Vader stood, ignoring the Mon Calamarian, and faced the Zabrak to see if he was allowed to go in to visit his Master yet.

"You're still here?" The Zabrak blinked once she noticed him.

"Yes," Vader replied.

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed heavily. "You can visit, but please keep it short and don't upset him."

"Thank you," Vader bowed to the Zabrak, and still ignoring the Mon Calamarian that was watching him, slipped into the medical room where his Master lay.

Obi-Wan looked only slightly better than he had the last time Vader had seen him. He'd been cleaned up, bandaged up, and dressed in a pale hospital gown-thing. There were a few intravenous lines running into his left wrist and he had a clear little plastic tube that run underneath his nose and gave him an extra shot of pure oxygen. His eyes were closed, but Vader could tell that he wasn't asleep yet.

Vader took a seat in a chair conveniently placed close to the bed and took a moment to gather himself. He never really liked medical wards of any kind. The endless, repetitive, aggravating soft beeps and whirs of medical machinery tended to get under his skin and drive him crazy. And the smells of antiseptic and Bacta were absolutely disgusting, not to mention the odor of other unpleasant bodily fluids. But he pushed his discomfort aside and poked Obi-Wan lightly in the arm.

"How long are they going to keep you here?" Vader asked quietly.

"A few weeks at least," Obi-Wan mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Hmm," Vader grunted, "that sucks."

"Language," Obi-Wan muttered.

"Sorry," Vader shrugged, in no way apologetic. He didn't see how saying something sucked was all that bad. It wasn't something one said to a head of state, but it wasn't as bad as saying 'kriff this!'.

Obi-Wan sighed and seemed to sink deeper into his medical cot. Vader got the feeling of intense weariness from his Master, made worse by the dulling pain medication he'd been put on. Deciding to put his most important question off until sometime tomorrow, Vader was about to leave when Obi-Wan suddenly perked up, even making to effort of opening his eyes and peering towards the door.

Just as the injured Jedi Master did that, the door hissed open to reveal the Mon Calamarian woman from the hallway. She stepped into the room and fixed her large liquid silver eyes on Obi-Wan and stared sadly. Then she sighed and shook her head at him.

"What have you done to yourself this time Obi-Wan?" She asked wearily.

"And hello to you too Bant," Obi-Wan snorted.

_Bant?_ Vader blinked. _Wait…wait…wasn't that the name of one of his old friends?_

"Answer the question," she murmured, moving to stand at the foot of his bed.

"Well, I would like to point out that I didn't do this to myself, I had some help." Obi-Wan replied dryly.

"I'm sure," Bant retorted with equal dryness, though she softened it a bit with a very faint smile. "You're a mess."

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed, closing his eyes again.

Bant moved to stand on the side of the bed opposite from Vader and studied the various read-outs displayed on the various medical devices. She sighed at what she saw and gently patted Obi-Wan's forehead with a webbed, fin-like hand. "You poor thing. What happened to you?"

"Oh let's see… I was declared dead, captured by the enemy, and tortured for a while." Obi-Wan shrugged stiffly. "The usual sort of thing."

"That's anything but 'usual' Obi-Wan." Bant scowled.

Obi-Wan painfully shrugged again and turned away to face Vader with his eyes half-open. "It's late young one, go to bed."

"But–" Vader started to protest.

"You can visit me in the morning." Obi-Wan interrupted firmly. "No go on."

Vader almost argued. Almost. But in the end he refrained. He was supposed to let Obi-Wan rest. So, very reluctantly, he got up and left the room.

As he trudged back towards his apartment, he scowled in frustration. He'd meant to badger Obi-Wan a bit more about who was responsible for hurting him, but it looked like he'd have to wait until morning to do that. It was annoying but he would just have to deal with it.

He would find out though. He would find out who thought they could hurt his Master and get away with it. He would find out and he would make sure that they paid dearly for it…

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed in relief as Vader vanished through the door. He'd been worried the young man would put up more of a fight than he had. He _sensed _that Vader had wanted to put up more of a fight than he had. But, being injured, the young man seemed to have decided to leave him be. For now, anyway.

_He'll just come back in the morning and keep coming back until he gets what he wants…_ Obi-Wan sighed to himself. And he knew _exactly_ what the young man wanted to know…

"Who was that Obi-Wan?" Bant asked, reminding him of her presence.

"My Padawan," He sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the medical cot.

"When did you take a Padawan?" Bant blinked.

Now, more than ever, Obi-Wan regretted not having spoken with any of his old friends since he had transferred to Corellia after Qui-Gon's death. "Some years ago," he smiled faintly. "I stumbled across him on Corellia." _Quite literally in fact! _He added silently.

"Hmm," Bant hummed. "He's rather…uncommunicative. I tried to speak with him in the hallway earlier and he was quite…vague. Almost rude."

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and swallowed a moan. "He can get like that sometimes," he apologized weakly. "Actually, I'm not surprised he was that way. I was 'dead' for about a month and I don't know what happened with him during that time. He's probably still a bit upset from my…absence."

"Ah," Bant nodded thoughtfully.

A silence fell between them that wasn't quite broken by the regular beeps and hums of various medical devices. Bant seemed to be lost in thought, her large silver eyes clouded and distant. Obi-Wan found himself slowly drifting off, the painkillers that took the edge off his pain were starting to drag him down into unconsciousness. But just as he was about to nod off completely, Bant came back to herself and grinned down at him.

"You know I'm going to have to tell Garen, Siri, and all the rest that I've spotted you." She teased. "So expect a few more visitors than your mysterious little Padawan to be showing up soon."

"Blast," Obi-Wan muttered, pretending to be annoyed at the news, though he knew she wasn't fooled.

"Get some rest Obi-Wan," Bant laughed as she left the room. "You'll need it in the morning when Siri catches wind of this."

"Blast," he repeated more softly, almost meaning it this time.

And then he was asleep with the faint echoes of Bant's giggles ringing in his ears.

* * *

Mace Windu was troubled as he made his way to visit with Master Yoda. The war was not going particularly well. Jedi were dying at an alarming rate and there was no end yet in sight.

Then there was the feel of the war itself. The more he and the other Council Members thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed manipulated. A rogue Jedi Master had commissioned the clone army from Kamino ten years previous to the start of hostilities. And then the project had been influenced by Dooku, who had hired the bounty hunter Jango Fett to be the template for the clone army. Then Dooku put his influence on the Separatists and did nothing to halt the move towards civil war. In fact, he'd encouraged the Separatists down the path to battle. But why? What did he and the Sith gain from this?

And then there was Vader. That boy was almost as frustrating as the war. While he had provided some useful information about the Sith, including that Dooku was the Apprentice under the guidance of some mysterious figure known only as Darth Sidious. But the information had come late and was very incomplete, just glimpses and hints with very little clear and concrete. And he had yet to reveal anything about his background or personal information.

Now it seemed there was a new mystery swirling around him on top of everything else. The report Master Ki-Adi-Mundi had given him early that afternoon hadn't been good. Vader had abruptly abandoned his post with no explanation of why or where he was going. Mace had feared the worst, thinking that the boy had finally cracked under the pressure of losing his mentor and was either rejoining his old Dark Master or seeking revenge on him.

But then, inexplicably, he returned with a clone trooper and the believed-lost Obi-Wan Kenobi. And he'd returned quickly, less than a day after he'd deserted Master Mundi and his Padawan in Varonat. He shouldn't have been able to locate Obi-Wan so fast, without help. So how had he done it?

The Human Master slipped into Master Yoda's private apartment, still pondering the endless problems the Republic and the Order faced. The diminutive alien Master sat cross-legged on a small cushion, deep in meditation. Mace took a seat in the only Human-sized chair in the entire apartment and waited for Master Yoda to acknowledge him.

"Troubled you are," the ancient being observed with his eyes still closed.

"There is too much we do not know for me not to be troubled." Mace replied. "Have you seen anything informative, Master?"

"No," Yoda sighed, shaking his head. "Thick the shroud of the Dark Side has become. Less and less can I see."

Mace rubbed at his forehead with one hand, trying to ease the rising tension within his skull. "Every day grows darker. I am starting to forget what it feels like to hear some genuine good news."

"Mmm," Yoda grunted. Then his grim expression shifted to something more thoughtful. "Some _interesting_ news I have."

"Interesting?" Mace repeated curiously.

"Yes, a theory I have as to how young Vader so quickly found the lost Obi-Wan." Yoda explained, almost cheerfully.

"Really?" Mace blinked.

Yoda nodded. "A bond they must share."

"A bond? That's not possible." Mace frowned. "Obi-Wan did not initially form a training bond with the boy nor did he ever report forming one later."

"True," Yoda agreed, "but a training bond I did not say."

Mace's frown deepened. "Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?"

"Yes, a training bond this is not. A latent bond it must be." Yoda confirmed.

Master Windu scowled as he tried to accept this idea. A latent bond differed from a training bond in that it wasn't consciously formed. When a pair of Jedi worked closely together for a long period of time and got along well with each other, a bond could slowly form between them over time. But…was such a bond possible between a Jedi Master and…and someone like Vader?

"If this is the case," Mace mused, "do you think either of them are aware of it yet?"

"Know that I do not," Yoda sighed, running a taloned hand through his white wispy hair. "Though if unaware of it they are, soon they will discover it."

"We can only hope that Vader will take it well." Mace muttered.

Yoda could only nod in response to that…


	39. 38: Hanger Duty

**Chapter 38  
**_Hanger Duty_

When Vader rolled out of bed in the morning he felt better than he had in a long time. He was still a bit irked that Obi-Wan refused to share the identity of the thing responsible for torturing him, but he would be patient. Eventually, one way or another, he would find out…

Forcing his mind off that subject, Vader went through the usual morning routine. He took a nice long shower, taking the time to thoroughly enjoy the hot water. Then he brushed his teeth, shaved, and messed with his hair. As he tied off his braid, he noted that his hair was in need of a trim.

With the long stretches of deployment during the war and the short breaks in-between, it was difficult to keep his hair properly trimmed. Some male Padawans (ones with hair) had taken advantage of this to let their hair grow out beyond the length that was preferred. Vader wasn't one of those, keeping his hair short more out of habit than anything else. He was also vaguely bothered by the fact that when his hair got a bit long, it had a tendency to curl, which really made no sense. His hair had always been straight before.

Now all clean and ready to get on with the day, he threw on his robes, fastened his belt, and pulled on his boots. He slipped out of the refresher, expecting to smell the aroma of freshly brewed tea, but was disappointed. For a moment, he'd forgotten that Obi-Wan was in the Healer's wing laid up for Force-knew how long. Sighing, Vader slunk into the apartment's tiny kitchen to make himself tea. Alone.

_But not forever,_ he reminded himself. _Soon they'll let Obi-Wan out of there and then he'll be back to makin' tea for the two of us._ He set a pot of water to boil and sifted through the different tea blends that his Master kept stocked. _I've just got to be patient. I can do that. No problem._

The apartment door chimed, distracting Vader from staring at the slowly heating teapot. Annoyed, but slightly curious to see who was at his door so early, he left the miniscule kitchen to answer the door. When he reached the door and keyed it open he saw…

…Master Windu standing there. Glaring. As usual.

Vader blinked. "Uh, good morning Master Windu."

"Good morning," Master Windu replied after a heavy pause. "Isn't there something that you are supposed to be doing right now?"

"Um…" Vader wracked his brains for the proper answer to that, but didn't come up with much.

"I assigned you to the Temple hanger for a week, remember?" Master Windu prompted.

"Oh yeah," Vader cringed, "forgot about that."

"The hanger staff started work almost an hour ago, and Master Vitz is wondering where that extra hand I promised him is." Master Windu added.

_Aw crud, they must keep the same hours as Watto,_ Vader cringed again. "Am I allowed breakfast, or do I have to skip it this morning?" He asked rather timidly.

"Make it quick, Master Vitz is waiting on you." The dark-skinned Master warned, then stalked off to do whatever it was that he did all day.

When the Master had vanished down the hall, Vader slumped a bit and ran his cold mechanical hand over his face. _So much for a good morning,_ he sighed to himself. Briefly, his eyes grew distant as he focused, and with a slight twitch of his fingers, the heat on the stove cut off. There was no sense in leaving the pot of water to boil away since it seemed he had no time for tea. And besides, it was a fire hazard to leave a stove running unattended.

With that taken care of, Vader slipped out of the apartment and half-sprinted down the hallway towards the cafeteria. If he hurried, he could make it there before there was a long line and snag a few muffins or something. That would have to do until he was granted a lunch break. If he was granted a lunch break…

_Well, at least I got assigned to the hangers and not the kitchens…_

* * *

Vader darted around the scurrying techs and mechanics that populated the Temple hanger. Some of the workers here were Jedi with a side-talent for mechanical things. But most were 'rejects', those with enough Force-potential to be taken in by the Order yet, for one reason or another, been passed over for apprenticeship and washed out of the training program. Instead of being shipped off to some distant world like Bandomeer to be a farmer, they were kept here and trained to service the spaceships of the Jedi Order.

A few more ducks and weaves brought him to one particular landing pad. There the Jedi Master in charge of the hanger, Grangg Vitz, crouched next to a disemboweled Jedi Starfighter. Vader skidded to a halt at what was hopefully a respectful distance and waited to be acknowledged.

Jedi Master Grangg Vitz was more intimidating than most of his brother Jedi. He was a Shistavanen Wolfman. The species by itself was intimidating enough, but being a Jedi on top of that was…impressive.

After a small eternity, the wolfish Jedi Master finally decided to pause and turn around to acknowledge Vader's existence. He regarded the 'Padawan' with the cold, calculating eyes of a highly evolved predator before wrinkling his muzzle in a snort. Master Vitz then turned back to what he'd been doing. The whole thing was carefully crafted to shame Vader for his tardiness, and though it was completely unnecessary since he was already embarrassed about it, it worked quite well.

"You are the Padawan Master Windu promised me for the week?" Master Vitz growled.

"Yes Master Vitz." Vader replied.

"You are late." Master Vitz remarked. "Very late."

"My apologies, Master Vitz. It will not happen again." Vader assured the alien Master.

"It had better not," Master Vitz rumbled. "Now get down to the ground floor and assist the techs."

"Yes Master Vitz." Vader bowed, even though the furry canine humanoid couldn't see him, and hurriedly departed.

_So I'm to be an errand boy for the week, _he sighed. But he cheered up a bit as he descended to the lowest hanger level. _Could be worse. He could've told me to scrub the hanger floor with a toothbrush…_

* * *

It took a little while for Obi-Wan to remember where he was. When he first woke up, he thought he was still in Ventress' clutches. But then he realized that couldn't be true. He was laying in a soft bed in a white softly lit room. Not a pitch black stone cell. He was safe and sound in the Jedi Temple's Healer wing and he was free.

Sighing faintly in relief, he sunk deeper into the mattress of the hospital cot and glanced around through half-open eyes. The room he'd been assigned was utterly unremarkable. It was a stark, sterile white, uninterrupted by any pictures or windows. There were a few chairs for any visitors that might come see him pushed up against the wall and a tiny nightstand table to one side of his bed. Aside from that, there was no other furniture or decoration of any kind.

For the moment he was alone. There were no medical droids present or Healers. And he had no visitors to sit in the chairs. Not even Vader.

Obi-Wan was disappointed. Bant had promised to spread the word of his presence in the Healer wing to his old friends, but he supposed they must all be busy. Vader, after that tearful reunion, he expected to be present, and Obi-Wan was sad to see that the young man wasn't around.

Seeing no reason to remain awake, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and set about falling back to sleep. But just then the door to his room hissed open. Opening his eyes again, Obi-Wan saw the dark imposing figure of Jedi Master Mace Windu.

"Good morning Obi-Wan," Master Windu greeted, though he seemed distantly annoyed by something.

"Good morning Mace," Obi-Wan replied hoarsely, "is there something I can do for you?"

"No," Mace sighed, "I'm afraid you won't be doing much for anyone for a while. I just stopped by to see how you were doing and inform you that your 'Padawan' will be busy for the rest of the week."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan blinked. "Busy with what?"

"I don't suppose he told you that when he retrieved you from Riflor he abandoned his post in Varonat?" Mace asked though his tone really didn't make it a question.

"No," Obi-Wan frowned.

"Well, that is exactly what he did. He suddenly left giving Master Ki-Adi-Mundi no explanation or destination." Mace informed him. "So he has been assigned to work in the hanger for the week as punishment."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "I'll talk with him about that the next time I see him." He promised.

"I already tried to lecture him about it," Mace admitted, "but I really don't think he was listening seeing as he forgot I'd assigned him hanger duty this morning."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbled.

"Enough about Vader," Mace grumbled, changing the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better," Obi-Wan replied.

"Good," Mace nodded, "glad to hear that. Hopefully you'll be as good as new soon."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "I hope so."

"Well, I have to get going," Mace sighed, heading for the door.

"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied reflexively.

"And may the Force be with you," Mace called back as he vanished out into the hall.

Alone again, Obi-Wan settled in for a long, boring day. To pass the time, he prepared to spend it meditating in a light healing trance. As he ran through the familiar exercises, he felt some pity for his poor Padawan.

_Poor Vader. The hanger staff will run him ragged by lunchtime…_

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, Vader was starving. He scuttled back to his apartment to through together a few sandwiches to take back with him to the hanger. With easily portable sandwiches, he could take advantage of his break time to wander the hanger at his leisure without having to worry about being called to fetch this or help carry that.

Some of the techs were surprised at his resilience. He was sure that Master Vitz had briefed all the staff on this level to run him into the ground and he supposed that's what they were trying to do. What they didn't know was that this was easy for him. He was used to scrambling around, struggling to finish the work set before him for the day. In fact this was easier; he didn't have to worry about getting cracked over the head or hand with Watto's cane for moving too slowly or making a mistake.

The lowest level of the Temple hanger was not all that exciting. Only vehicles in dire need of a complete refit were moved down here. It was mainly where parts and tools were stored and repairs to complex parts were done. But the upper levels, they were much more interesting.

The other levels consisted of various platforms, some of which moved. And on each platform was at least one vehicle of some kind, usually a Jedi Starfighter. But there were other starships there too, some small and some large.

Vader headed for the upper levels, specifically for his assigned Starfighter. Originally he hadn't been trusted with one. If he had to go on a mission with Obi-Wan that necessitated the use of a Starfighter, he'd ride along in the cramped emergency jump seat behind Obi-Wan. But with the outbreak of the war they'd had little choice but to grant him the use of one.

His fighter was, outwardly, just like Obi-Wan's except for one difference. Where Obi-Wan's was trimmed in red, his was trimmed with green. And of course the attached Astromech was different. Instead of the red R4-P17, he had a green R4-P44. To keep it distinct from Obi-Wan's 'Arfour', he called it 'Peefour' (since 'Peeforty-four' was too long and complicated) and sometimes shortened even that to 'Petey'.

"Hey Petey!" He greeted the dozing little droid.

The green Astromech squeaked and its eye lit up as it became active. It warbled something at him and Vader leaned his head into the cockpit to read the translation screen. HELLO THERE! ARE WE GOING OUT AGAIN TODAY?

"No, we're not going out today," Vader sighed. "I'm on hanger duty for the week."

OH. Peefour actually sounded rather let-down. THAT'S TOO BAD.

"Not really," Vader shrugged, pausing to take a bite out of his second sandwich. "I like working with machines and things. If Master Windu meant this assignment to be unpleasant, he made a mistake."

WELL, chirped Peefour, THAT'S GREAT THEN!

"Yeah," Vader chuckled a little and finished his sandwich.

Just as he was dusting the last crumbs off the edge of his cloak, a rushing pair of mechanics caught his eye. He glanced after them curiously, wondering what had them so excited. They reminded him of the faint whispers he'd half-caught all morning. Something special, it seemed, was going to happen today.

"Well Petey, I'll be around." Vader patted the green Astromech's dome in farewell as he wandered off to see what had gotten everyone so excited.

He found out two levels up and one platform over. It sat there all shiny and new. And it was absolutely beautiful.

The current version of the Jedi Starfighter, the Delta-7, was a sleek wedge of death. Speedy, nimble, and all but impractical for anyone who wasn't a Jedi. It sacrificed a great deal of defensive power and shielding for its speed, not to mention its lack of an internal hyperdrive. It was also so cramped that the Astromech assigned to it had to be partly disassembled and permanently wired to the ship to fit. The Delta-7 wasn't perfect, but it served its purpose well enough.

But that didn't stop the company that manufactured the Jedi Starfighter from trying to improve the design. Ever since the start of the war, the research and development teams worked hard studying combat data from the Delta-7, finding out what worked and what didn't. And then they made something new.

The new model of Jedi Starfighter, the much rumored Eta-2, was everything he'd heard it might be and more. The wedge-shaped design was little more than a memory. The cockpit was transformed into a spherical pod with a much greater field of vision. The pod was nestled between a pair of broad, flat, prong-like wings, one of which had an empty socket for an Astromech droid. It wasn't as graceful-looking as the Delta-7, but it looked ten times fiercer.

Vader could nothing but stare at it. The prototype Eta-2 was so new it hadn't even been painted yet. But even just plain durasteel gray looked fine on the thing. If he hadn't been so frozen with awe, he would've wandered over to touch it, maybe even start looking through it.

He wasn't the only one staring. Every tech, mechanic, Padawan, Knight, and even some Masters, hovered around the edges of the thing, admiring it. If they had the time or excuse, they were here to see the future of the Jedi Starfighter.

If it was up to him, Vader would've spent all day drooling over the marvelous new machine. But, of course, it wasn't up to him, and the lunch break was swiftly drawing to a close. So, with great effort, he forced himself to turn away and return to the bowels of the Temple hanger.

Though for the rest of the day, no matter what he was doing, his mind buzzed with one singular thought.

_I want to fly it!_


	40. 39: A Gift of Japor

**Chapter 39  
**_A Gift of Japor_

Vader wandered back into the apartment late that night. After being dismissed from the hanger for the day he'd swung by the cafeteria for dinner and then went to visit Obi-Wan. And then he'd talked to the older man about the amazing new Eta-2 until Obi-Wan was thoroughly sick of hearing about it.

Now, slightly weary from running all over the hanger all day, but not particularly sleepy, he slumped down onto the common room couch and tried to think of something to do. Normally, if Obi-Wan had been around, he would've bothered the older man until his Master decided to get him meditating. But Obi-Wan wasn't around to bother and he really didn't feel like meditating by himself. So what to do?

Scrabbling for ideas, Vader rolled off the couch and meandered into his room. It looked tidy enough at first glance, but if one were to look under his bed or in his closet they would find the first glance to be a lie. Deciding he'd let those two problem areas go for far too long, he set about cleaning them up.

His excavations under his bed produced some rather shocking things. The most disgusting of which had probably been a half-eaten sandwich at some point, but now was a pile of greenish fuzz that could probably give someone food poisoning just by looking at it. But aside from that, he also found some data chips he'd thought he'd lost, crumpled hard-copy notes from years ago, a few mismatched pairs of old dirty socks, and an ancient paper book he'd borrowed from the Archives for a history report two years ago and still not returned.

Cringing at the book discovery, he carefully set it aside, making a mental note to slip it back in the Archives as soon as possible. Preferably when Master Nu wasn't around to see him. If she caught him with such an old and overdue book, she might hurt him, or at least lecture his poor ear off.

After throwing away the Moldy Sandwich of Doom! and the other miscellaneous trash he'd discovered under his bed, he moved on to the closet. Most of the closet mess was ruined tunics and pants that he'd meant to fix, but never had and now none of them fit. But underneath all of that were…other things.

Once the old ruined clothes were piled off to the side for disposal, he stumbled over his old bag. He hadn't seen the beaten up old thing since his first year in the Temple (because after that point the mess in his closet had effectively buried it). And he hadn't gone through it since he'd tossed there on his first day here. He stared at it for a few minutes before hesitantly opening it up and sorting through its contents.

The first thing he pulled out were his old clothes. They were as ratty and musty as he remembered them being, and now they were utterly useless. He'd grown several inches since entering the Jedi Order and there was no way he could fit into his old clothing. Sighing, he added his old 'civilian' outfit to the pile of ruined Jedi robes to be thrown out. Making another mental note to find some new civilian clothes (just in case) he moved on to the next layer of things in his bag.

Next, he fished out his tool collection. His personal collection was stored in a smallish looking fold-up bag made from Dewback leather. Unfolding it, he gazed down upon his tools, a wide selection that went from wrenches to hydro-spanners and logic probes. He even had a small laser torch for cutting and welding. Each tool had its own loop inside the little bag and his quick glance-over confirmed that all tools were present and accounted for. Folding up the bag, he set it aside and dug deeper into his old pack.

Underneath the tools he found several small pouches. He carefully emptied each one out, took stock of the contents, and filled it back up. Each pouch contained a different type of currency, both Republic and non-Republic credits. Some of it he had come by legitimately, but most of it he had stolen early on in his flight from Dooku.

Buried under the money pouches was something that made him cringe. His old crimson-bladed saber, the one the Count had had him make. He lifted it out of the bag, trying to touch as little of it as possible. _Why haven't I thrown this thing away yet?_ He wondered disgustedly.

Vader was about to bury it in the pile of clothes he was going to throw out when an idea struck him. He cracked the saber hilt open and began to poke around inside. When he came to the crystal, a blood-red gemstone, he popped it free and tossed it into the throw-away pile. Then he resealed the hilt and put it down, making yet another mental note, this time to pick up a new crystal. That way he could turn the old Sith hilt into a proper back-up saber in case anything happened to his current one.

Peering into the bag again, it appeared to be empty, but he poked around inside just to make sure. In the backpack's pockets he found a few used ticket stubs from flights he'd bought passage on and some old candy wrappers. But in one last tiny inside pocket, he found something he'd completely forgotten that he had.

It was wrapped up in a ragged scrap of cloth and if he hadn't bothered to unwrap it he might've thrown it out. He held it gently with his right hand and slowly ran the fingers of his left over the smooth surface and through the shallow, slightly rough grooves. After several minutes of lip-chewing contemplation, he wrapped it back up in its cloth and placed it in one of the empty pouches on his belt. _Tomorrow, _he decided.

With everything gone through, he carefully replaced the things he was going to keep back in the bag. Then he shoved the bag back into its little corner in his closet, hopefully not to be as thoroughly forgotten as it had been last time. And then he gathered up all his recently discovered garbage and threw it out before getting ready for bed.

_I'll do it tomorrow, after hanger duty…_

* * *

Padmé leaned against the burbling decorative fountain near the stairs that led nowhere at the back of her penthouse apartment. She trailed the fingers of one hand lazily through the cool water and stared blankly up through the glass ceiling of her common room. Above her the sky was a clear blue, unmarred by clouds or traffic since the cluster of apartment buildings reserved for Senators had a no-fly zone directly above it.

It had been a long day. Most of it had been taken up by a lengthy Senate session that ended with a lot of argument and the Supreme Chancellor gaining more emergency powers. And the rest had involved meetings with fellow Senators on the same committees she was on and piles of paperwork.

Now, though, she had nothing to do. She'd read all she'd needed to read, written all she needed to write, and spoken to all the people she'd needed to speak to. And now that she'd run out of work to do, she had no one to talk to.

Captain Typho was busy managing security. Ellé was shopping to replenish her kitchen. Moteé was on vacation back on Naboo. And Sabé was down with the Corellian Flu that had been going around. So for the moment, she was alone in her apartment with only her worries to occupy her.

Padmé sighed heavily and abandoned her fountain to go sit on her couch. She worried about a lot of things. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine continued to incrementally prove how wrong she was about him. It appeared that he only reluctantly was accepting the emergency powers he was granted, but she was getting a feeling that it was an act.

Then there was the war. She abhorred violence. She always felt that with enough time and effort any problem could be worked out without resorting to fists or blasters. And now the Republic she loved and served, the institution that was meant to prevent war and conflict, was now neck-deep in one. That bothered her immensely, not to mention the fact that millions were dying: clone, Jedi, and civilian alike.

And that brought her to Vader. She wasn't happy that the Jedi Order had decided to send him out again, so soon after losing Obi-Wan. He was nowhere near done grieving yet. After his impromptu sleepover on her loveseat, he'd come back to her apartment every afternoon that week after he'd finished working with his new guardian, Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi.

Each time he'd come over had been a little worse than the last time. He was a shell of his former self, hollow-eyed and numb. He would just wander in and sit on her couch or loveseat and stare blankly ahead. She and Sabé tried to cheer him up, as did Artoo when he was around, but it did no good. It broke Padmé's heart to see him that way; to see him suffering just like Obi-Wan had suffered when Qui-Gon had been killed only worse. Obi-Wan had been slightly more prepared to lose his Master, Vader was not.

But now Vader was gone, off trolling for pirates in the Varonat system. He was with Master Ki-Adi-Mundi and the Cerean Jedi's current Padawan, so he wasn't alone, physically anyway. But, then again with only other Jedi for company, he could very well feel alone emotion-wise. And so she worried.

Had her apartment not been so empty and quiet, she might've missed the faint hiss of an opening door. Since she wasn't expecting anyone, this worried her a little bit, but only a little. Captain Typho and the building security wouldn't let anyone past that was dangerous. But who could be visiting her?

"Um, hello?" A male voice called out hesitantly.

Padmé's jaw dropped as she recognized the voice. Then she jumped to her feet and strode towards the lift. "Vader?" She rounded the corner to find him standing there looking – of all things – sheepish. "What-what are you doing here? I thought you were patrolling for pirates in Varonat."

Now he _really_ looked sheepish. "Ah, yeah, I-I was…until a few days ago."

"Oh," Padmé blinked.

And then she took a look at him, _really_ looked at him. There was something different about him. Something difficult to accurately define.

He didn't look like the walking dead anymore. His face had more than a blank or pained expression. There was light in his eyes again. It was like he'd found his soul after losing it with Master Kenobi.

She tilted her head and studied him. "Something's happened."

"Huh?" Vader blinked, looking slightly anxious. "What do you mean?"

"You look better than you did last time I saw you." Padmé shrugged, smiling slightly.

"Oh, um…thanks?" Vader squirmed a bit, looking confused.

"You're welcome," Padmé grinned. "Would you like some caf? Tea?"

"Caf's fine." He graced her with a faint, wavering smile.

"Okay," Padmé nodded, heading for the kitchen to brew up a pot. "Have a seat, this'll take a few minutes."

He didn't answer, but she heard him moving towards the common room. Padmé scampered around the kitchen, pulling out the caf pot and caf powder. As she filled the machine with water and loaded the filter and powder she wondered just what had happened in the nine days he'd been gone.

It had to have been something good to bring him back to life. Though, short of Obi-Wan coming back from the dead, she couldn't imagine what this good thing was. Wondering about it just made her frustrated as she came up empty. As soon as the caf was ready, she poured two cups and hurried back to Vader to find out what was going on.

"One cup of caf," she grinned, passing him the steaming cup.

"Thanks," he smiled weakly, taking the cup with his less sensitive mechanical prosthetic.

"So," she settled herself down on the couch, "care to explain why you're back early?"

"Er…" He stalled by taking a slow sip of his caf. "No," he decided, "I don't think I will."

"What?" Padmé frowned. _First he has no name and no past and now he won't share what's going on…_

"I'm keeping it a secret for now," he grinned slyly, "but I promise I'll tell you all about it soon. And you'll like it." He promised.

Padmé eyed him suspiciously. "Define 'soon.'"

"Oh, a few weeks, a month at the most, hopefully before I'm sent out again," he said after a few moments thought.

"Great," Padmé sighed, "this is going to be bugging me until whenever 'soon' is."

"Sorry," he cringed a little and sipped at his caf. "Don't mean to be driving you crazy."

"It's alright," she grumbled, "I'm resigned to the fact that you'll be a mystery to me indefinitely."

Vader wilted slightly. "I wouldn't say that." He muttered. "When…when this war is resolved…I'll be freer to explain things."

Padmé arched an eyebrow, deeply intrigued. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he swallowed, nervously sipping at his cup of caf. "Hey Padmé?"

"Yes?" She inquired curiously, nursing her own cup of caf.

"I…I'm sorry for using your apartment as a place to hide and mope," he apologized, staring fixedly into his caf. "But thanks for putting up with me."

"It's no problem," she assured him kindly, "I'm glad I could help."

"Yeah, well…" Vader trailed off. He set his cup down on the small common room table so that he could pull something out of a pouch on his utility belt. "I still feel like saying thanks and…well…here." He shrugged uncomfortably, holding out a small object wrapped up in a torn bluish cloth.

Padmé's eyes widened in surprise as she set her own cup aside to take the mysterious object. Whatever was under the cloth felt very solid to her probing fingertips. Feeling a rush of girlish excitement, she quickly pulled aside the concealing cloth to see just what Vader's thank-you present was.

It looked like a wood carving of some kind. It was flat and roughly square in shape with a half-circle taken out of each side. A few wavy lines cut into the surface of the piece radiated out of the center towards the corners. There was a hole bored in the center and as she turned it over to see that the back was the same as the front, a leather cord attached to a little metal eyelet dropped free. It was a pendant.

She had a lot of pendants. She had a lot of jewelry in general. But nothing like this. All of her jewelry was made of some sort of precious metal and usually included a precious stone or two. It was mostly very elaborate and some of it was rather large and bulky. She'd never had any jewelry like this…

"Where did you get this?" She breathed.

"I, um, I made it…when I was little." Vader hesitantly admitted, reclaiming his caf cup and taking a long sip from it.

"Really?" Padmé glanced up from the wooden pendant. "You made this?"

"Mm-hm," he nodded. "I carved up a snippet of Japor wood in my spare time. It's supposed to bring people good fortune." He took another sip. "Or so I hear, anyway."

"Oh wow," she murmured. Then she bit her lip. "I can't take this."

"What? Why?" Vader's face fell. "You…don't like it?"

"No, it's very nice," Padmé smiled encouragingly.

"So…why can't you take it?" Vader frowned, puzzled.

"It's just – you worked so hard on it, and you need more 'good fortune' than I do." She shrugged, swishing the last sip of her caf around in the cup.

Vader laughed a little. "Who says you don't need some good fortune in dealing with the Senate?" He grinned. "And besides, I'm not really the jewelry type. You'd get more use out of it than I ever will."

"You're sure?" Padmé asked quietly.

"I wouldn't give it to you if I wasn't." Vader smiled, amused.

Padmé smiled and ran a thumb over the smooth cool wood of the pendant. "Thank you. This is one of the nicest presents anyone has ever given me."

"Sure," Vader snorted disbelievingly.

"No I'm serious," she corrected. "I really like it."

He squirmed a bit in his seat and she swore she saw a faint blush form on his face. "Um, thanks. Glad you like it." He smiled shyly at her.

_He really should smile like that more often, _Padmé decided as she beamed back at him. _He looks so much more handsome when he smiles. And it's good to see him happy._

Vader shifted anxiously and glanced up at a wall chrono. "I…should go. It's getting late."

"You can't stay?" Padmé asked. _But you just got here._

"No, I have some things to do and I have a…friend…I'd like to visit in the Healer wing." Vader shrugged, a strange, almost smug, smirk appearing on his face.

"Oh no, will your friend be alright?" She wondered, concerned.

"Yes, he'll be fine," Vader nodded. "Maybe when he's feeling better I'll bring him over for a visit?"

"Certainly, I'll be looking forward to it." Padmé smiled.

Vader's odd little smirk grew wider and a strange glint flickered in his eyes. "So am I. And thanks again," he nodded and downed his last sip of caf.

Padmé rose with Vader and walked him to the lift. Before he stepped into the lift car, she caught his elbow to stop him. He looked over at her, confused, waiting to see what she wanted.

"I'm glad to see you looking so much better," she smiled. "And thank you very much for the necklace." She then pulled him into a quick hug and kissed him on the cheek. "Now take care of yourself and come back soon."

Vader seemed to have lost the ability to speak, though he did manage to give her a nod before the lift doors closed, separating them. She turned away from the lift and wandered into her room, giggling. The dazed expression on Vader's face after she'd hugged and kissed him had been priceless. She knew it wasn't very nice to pick on Jedi like that, they didn't believe in anything more than a distant sort of friendship. But she really couldn't help it; she treated all her close friends that way.

Her giggles died away as she took a seat on her bed. The wooden pendant drew her attention once more and she turned the smooth carving over in her hands as she studied it. She couldn't quite decide if it was abstract or a highly stylized symbol of some kind.

_Hmm, this leather looks worn out, _she noted, rubbing the leather cord between her fingertips. _Maybe I should look and see if I have any spare chains lying around. A nice simple gold chain would work perfectly…_

* * *

Vader staggered backwards until his back hit the lift car wall. He slumped towards the floor, barely catching himself on the handrail. His heart raced and his mind spun and he had trouble catching his breath.

He could handle talking to pretty girls like Padmé fine most of the time. He could tolerate hugs and holding hands. But one chaste little kiss, it seemed, was enough to fry his brain.

A violent shake of his head and a few deep breaths helped him get back in order. He wearily ran his cold metal right hand over his burning face and struggled to think clearly. _Ugh, stupid hormones. I'm not a teenager anymore, shouldn't this crap have stopped?_

The lift doors opened too soon, forcing him to saunter out into the lobby as if nothing had happened. He gave a little wave to Artoo and Captain Typho as he saw them and smiled a bit when Artoo rocked back and forth and squealed like a lunatic. _Good old Artoo,_ he chuckled to himself as he stepped out onto the busy Coruscant streets.

_But back to real life,_ Vader sighed as he locked on to the Jedi Temple. _Back to being the hanger errand boy and visiting poor bedridden Obi-Wan…_ As he walked, a silly contented grin found its way onto his face.

_She liked it…_


	41. 40: ObiWan and Friends

**Chapter 40  
**_Obi-Wan and Friends_

Obi-Wan was thoroughly sick of his tiny room in the Healer wing. Two and a half weeks of the same room was enough to make even a calm patient soul like himself bored out of his mind. And his very short list of visitors did little to alleviate his boredom.

Even though Vader's term of servitude in the Temple hanger had long since expired, the young man continued to spend most of his time there. Obi-Wan had noticed his talent with machine before, but now he was really starting to see the extent of his interest and talent in that particular field. The bedridden Master was constantly lost as Vader would babble on about fixing something or tackling some odd, complicated engineering problem. And he would cringe whenever the young man would bring up the new Eta-2 Jedi Starfighter.

After Vader his next most often visitor was Mace Windu. The Jedi Master from Haruun Kalwould stop by on occasion to chat with him and discuss strategies for the war. Mace had also stopped by the day he'd realized that the 'punishment' he'd given Vader wasn't much of a punishment at all. Obi-Wan had had difficulty in not laughing just a little bit as Mace had complained about it to him.

And the only other visitor aside from the various Healers that treated him (they weren't friends or colleagues so they didn't count) was Master Yoda. The ancient Master came by a few times to see how he was recovering. Yoda had also asked a few odd questions about him and Vader that had been difficult to answer and just plain strange.

But aside from those three, no one came to see him. Not Bant, not Siri, not Garen. He supposed Bant, being a Healer, became busy with tending war injuries and forgot. Though Bant usually wasn't one to forget about promises.

His solitude was broken by one of the head Healers, Master Trickna, entered his room. The aging violet Twi'lek wasted no words as she studied his charts and ran through his exam. Obi-Wan followed her directions as best he could and waited for today's verdict. Would he be granted some more freedom, or would he continue to be confined to this room?

"Well Master Kenobi, you are doing remarkably well, all things considered." Master Trickna murmured, studying his charts one last time, making a few notes. "So I think today we will be releasing you. When your Padawan arrives, he may escort you back to your quarters. Keep your exercise to a minimum and come back in a week for a check-up. If you continue to improve, you will be cleared for more strenuous activities."

"Thank you Master Trickna," Obi-Wan nodded gratefully.

"You're welcome Master Kenobi," the Twi'lek Master replied, hanging his chart back on the wall and leaving to see to her next patient.

Alone again, Obi-Wan set about getting out of his hospital pajamas and back into his proper Jedi attire. It took a while. He was still and sore from the abuse he'd suffered and weak from neglect and laying in a hospital cot for several weeks. But he managed well enough, and felt much more like himself now that he was properly dressed.

Now all that was left to do was wait. For how long he hadn't the faintest idea. While Vader spent a great deal of time visiting him, he spent the majority of the day in the Temple hanger helping out and staring longingly at the freshly painted Eta-2. He might have to wait hours, or only minutes, it was impossible to tell. So Obi-Wan settled in to wait.

* * *

If Vader had to pick one single place in the Jedi Temple and call it his favorite, the hanger would lose out to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. While the hanger catered to his interest in the mechanical, it was beaten hands down by the calm beauty of the Fountain Room. It also helped that large quantities of water had a tendency to fascinate him for hours on end. 

The Room of a Thousand Fountains was, essentially, an indoor park. It was so well engineered and so large that at first he thought it was real. The fountains weren't fountains exactly, but waterfalls and pools. It was a well done cascade effect; the highest waterfalls fed pools that drained into mid-level waterfalls that fed larger pools that drained through the lowest waterfalls that fed pools the size of small lakes at the bottom. Beautifully sculpted rocks and cliff-faces supported the waterfalls and lined the walls of the vast room. And wherever there wasn't water or rocks there were plants, beautiful exotic species from all corners of the galaxy.

This wonderful, unique room served several purposes. It was a beautiful garden where Jedi could go to relax, meditate, do homework, whatever they wanted really. The room also served as the Temple swimming pool. This was where Jedi Younglings were taught to swim; the small pools were for wading while the larger ponds were deep enough for real swimming. It was also where Obi-Wan had tested him on his swimming skills, appalling as they were.

That was the drawback to being from Tatooine: no swimming skills whatsoever. When Dooku had gotten his hands on Vader, he'd taken it upon himself to rectify the boy's deficiency. Of course his idea of swimming lessons had been to kick Vader into a deep pool and let him thrash around until he was an inch away from drowning, then fish him out, let him rest for a few minutes, and then repeat. Eventually he had learned enough to keep his head above water for ten or so minutes, but that wasn't anywhere near good enough by Jedi standards.

When Obi-Wan had brought Vader here to assess his skills, the Jedi had been shocked at how terrible he was. What followed that dismal test had probably been the most demoralizing, demeaning set of lessons he'd undergone. At fifteen it was beyond embarrassing to need to be taught things like how to hold his breath underwater or how to float.

But he had learned. It took almost two years, but he'd learned. A five-year-old Jedi could probably swim circles around him, but he knew enough to get by. Sometimes he even managed to have fun in the water.

Vader stretched lazily and settled back against the trunk of an Alderaanian Elm next to a small isolated pool in a secluded section of the room. After an especially busy morning in the Temple hanger, he'd decided a little rest and relaxation was in order before he went to bug Obi-Wan. Maybe he'd meditate, maybe he'd catch a quick cat-nap, or maybe he'd just sit there and space out for an hour.

He shifted slightly to find a more comfortable position against the tree and let his eyes drift shut. Slowly tension he hadn't even known he was feeling melted away under the soothing murmur of the nearby waterfalls and the distant giggles of playing children. And then, without particularly trying to, he drifted off into meditation.

The entire room pulsed with the Living Force. It flowed through the water, wound through the trees and flowers, and shone through the relaxing Jedi. Beauty was too weak a word to describe what he felt and what he 'saw'.

He shifted his 'sight' from outwards to inwards. He studied things that others saw and things that he hid. The outside was the blazing Light that generally blinded anyone who cared to probe him. It was one of the first things he'd worked on, a shield of Light that would be above any Jedi's suspicion. But underneath that had been a roiling sea of Darkness. Now when he looked, there was only hazy shadows left of the Darkness. Scars on his soul he doubted would ever go away. The Taint that, if seen by the Jedi, could stillget him into serious hot water.

Vader generally did not like meditating, especially when he felt like there was something better he could be doing. But when he did meditate, he would sometimes do what he saw as self-maintenance. A check-up on himself, his progress, and his problem areas.

In the beginning, every time he would look, there was some noticeable change. New spots of Light, old Dark spots shifting or fading to hazy shadow. Now, though, there was usually never any change. He seemed to be stuck where he was, eighty percent Light, fifteen percent shadowy gray, and five percent Dark.

Now as he looked, it was pretty much the same as last time. A few of the shadowy blotches had shifted around, but the shadows usually moved quickly and easily. That was their nature, he supposed. Seeing the same major swirls and flows in and around himself, he was about to move on. But then he noticed something.

It was so subtle he almost missed it. Hell, it could've been there for a year for all he knew! A thin filament of Light arced out of his presence and twisted off to…somewhere. Curious, he pressed his mind against it to see just what it was and–

* * *

Obi-Wan blinked and sat up a bit straighter on his hospital cot. Something felt off…different. It was almost like when he'd been a Padawan and Master Qui-Gon had touched him through their training bond. Only it wasn't the same. 

Frowning a little in concentration and puzzlement, Obi-Wan touched back. _(Hello?)_

The response he got wasn't so much in words as it was the mental equivalent of a choking sound. And then the contact withdrew, faded down to a background tingle so subtle that he hadn't noticed it before now. Intrigued, he reached for the source of the tingle and tried to locate the source. But when he thought he was close, he hit a mental brick wall.

Puzzled, Obi-Wan drew back and pondered the odd occurrence. To try and help his thinking processes along, he fell back on his old habit of stroking his beard. Normally that helped a little bit, but this time it failed him…

* * *

Vader lurched forward off the tree trunk, clutching at his chest and breathing hard. If anyone had been around to see him, they would've noted his pale face and guessed that he'd just encountered a ghost. But he was alone without any witnesses to wonder at his mysterious panic attack. 

_Force, what the hell just happened?_ He panted, his hands trembled. _What did I do?_

Taking a few deeps breaths, he closed his eyes and struggled to calm down and think clearly about what had just happened. _Let's see…let's see…I sensed something weird…touched it…and…and heard Obi-Wan in my head? Did he just invade my head?_

Vader scowled, more annoyed than perturbed. Obi-Wan knew better, though. And as far as he could recall, he had been the one to do something, make contact. He'd touched on that-that thing and Obi-Wan had…answered?

Deeply confused, Vader jumped to his feet and headed for the exit. Screw the hour break; he'd visit Obi-Wan now. Maybe he could explain just what the hell had happened…

* * *

Obi-Wan was still puzzling over the mysterious contact and stroking his beard when the door to his room whooshed open. He looked up expecting to see his Padawan. But his eyes spied– 

"Bant?" He blinked, surprised.

"Hello Obi-Wan," his Mon Calamarian friend smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I haven't visited you, but the Master Healers have been keeping me busy lately. If things go on as they have been, they might even assign me to a Med-Star."

"That's alright," Obi-Wan smiled, "I'm just glad you found time to stop by. Master Trickna has cleared me for release, and as soon as my Padawan decides to come see me, I'll be returning to my quarters."

"Well I'm glad that I caught you then," Bant grinned. "To make up for my absence, I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

Bant only grinned at him and stepped away from the door. Then several more people walked into view. Obi-Wan's jaw dropped.

"Siri? Garen?" He blinked, stupefied.

"Hey Obi-Wan! So you do remember us." Garen teased.

"Of course I do!" Obi-Wan sputtered indignantly.

"Could've fooled us," Siri sniffed, only half in jest. Clearly she was rather annoyed that he'd been back on Coruscant for years and never looked any of them up even once. Obi-Wan cringed a little.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan sighed apologetically.

"Well, since I'm a nice woman, I'll forgive you." Siri smirked.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan chuckled. Then Obi-Wan noticed a fourth visitor. A Human Padawan roughly Vader's age hung in Siri's shadow, looking a little uncomfortable. "Now who's this?" He asked, looking curiously at the unfamiliar young man.

"Hmph, if you'd kept in touch, you'd know." Siri snorted. "Obi-Wan, I would like to introduce you to my Padawan, Ferus Olin." She stepped to the side and physically shifted Ferus so that he stood beside her.

Now the boy looked very uncomfortably. "Good afternoon Master Kenobi," Ferus greeted stiffly with a slight bow.

"Good afternoon," Obi-Wan nodded in reply.

"Wonderful, now we all know each other." Bant smiled, clasping her flipper-like hands together.

"Now _Master_ Kenobi," Siri mockingly stressed his title and seniority over the rest of them, "shall we drag your dead weight to a more pleasant location since you've been released? The Room of a Thousand Fountains, perhaps?"

"I would love to, but I would prefer to wait for my Padawan to show up." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't think he'd appreciate it if he got here and I disappeared on him…again."

"Your Padawan?" Garen blinked.

"Bant didn't mention him to you?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"Oh, I'd forgotten that." Bant winced. "Sorry."

"You forgot?" Obi-Wan snorted. _I thought he made more of an impression on you._

"While we wait, why don't we catch up?" Garen suggested, pulling one of the plastic visitors' chairs away from the wall and taking a seat near Obi-Wan.

"A splendid idea," Bant agreed, also taking a chair.

"Might as well," Siri nodded as she and her Padawan took the last two chairs.

"Alright then." Obi-Wan shifted to sit on the edge of his bed and better face them. "Where to begin…"

* * *

Vader strode through the Healer wing at a slightly-faster-than-dignified pace. A few of the senior Healers gave him dirty looks for that, but he completely ignored them. All he cared about was getting to Obi-Wan and figuring out just what the hell was going on. 

He stopped cold though when he stepped into Obi-Wan's room and found four other people there. One he recognized as Bant, Obi-Wan's Mon Calamarian friend. And another he recognized as Ferus Olin, a straight-laced Padawan who'd been his lab partner for his biochemistry class three years ago. But the other two Humans were strangers to him. They'd all been discussing something, but when he stumbled in they all shut up and stared at him.

"Uh, hi." He blinked, shifting awkwardly under the weight of five different pairs of eyes. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not really," Obi-Wan smiled and patted an open space next to him on the bed. "Have a seat while we finish up."

Vader nodded and slipped past the visitors to take a seat at the indicated spot. As he settled down on the edge of the bed next to his Master he could feel the others' interest in him. Specifically he was aware of Ferus' curious yet disdainful gaze.

Ferus, his old lab partner, and he had never gotten along. The other Padawan was too stiff for his taste, always whining about some rule or another. To Vader it seemed that Ferus was obsessed with being the perfect Jedi Padawan. In class he'd certainly been a teacher's pet. And Ferus had despised him for his laid-back attitude and disregard for the rules. If Ferus had more of an aggressive personality Vader was sure that the other Padawan might've gotten into a fight with him at some point out of pure frustration with him.

"What are you doing here?" Ferus asked suspiciously. It seemed that Ferus hadn't forgotten about how much he disliked Vader.

"I'm visiting," Vader shrugged, pointing at Obi-Wan with his left hand.

"You know him Ferus?" The blonde woman to Ferus' right asked.

"Yes Master," Ferus nodded stiffly, his tone mildly disgusted, "he was my lab partner for biochemistry."

"Oh, the infamous Vader?" She murmured, arching an eyebrow.

"Infamous?" Obi-Wan blinked. "What did he do?"

_Oh no, _Vader moaned. He really wasn't looking forward to hearing Ferus whine and complain about him.

"He all but slept through class and he was so lax in following the lab instructions that I ended up doing all the work to avoid him screwing it up." Ferus complained.

"Oh, is that all?" Obi-Wan asked, confused.

Ferus gaped, startled. "Is-is that _all_?" He choked.

"I just thought he'd done something more serious," Obi-Wan shrugged. "I seem to recall several visits from Master Durkin concerning his habit of actually falling asleep in his Political Studies class."

Vader found the white and pale gray tile floor very attention-grabbing. It was certainly better to look at than the other Jedi in the small room. Picking up on their emotions was more than enough.

"So you went for an easy one for your first Padawan, eh?" Ferus' Master muttered sarcastically.

"Yes Siri, that's exactly what I did." Obi-Wan responded with equal sarcasm.

_Siri? Another of your old friends, Obi-Wan?_ Vader mused, still staring at the floor. _Small galaxy. I get paired up with the Padawan of one of your old friends and you never ran into each other…_

"Ah, dueling with sarcasm. I've missed watching you guys go at it." The other unknown Jedi, who Vader guessed to be Garen, sighed happily.

"Good to see that someone enjoyed them," Obi-Wan grumbled.

"Now that we're all here," Bant interrupted, "why don't we go to Obi-Wan's apartment?"

Vader glanced over at his Master out of the corner of his eye and finally noticed that he was back in his Jedi robes. _The Healers must've released him, _he realized. _Finally!_

"Yes, let's." Obi-Wan agreed, carefully sliding off the edge of the bed to stand on the floor.

Vader was off the bed and at his Master's side a second later. Obi-Wan, however, ignored the silent offer of assistance and seemed determined to do as much for himself as possible. Vader felt rather annoyed as he trailed after the slow-moving Jedi Master and his small pack of friends.

_Hey Obi-Wan! I'm here to be your Human crutch! _Vader grumbled. _Use me damn it!_ But, of course, being the stubborn old man that he was, Obi-Wan didn't. And so it took all of them _forever_ to get to where they were going.

* * *

Obi-Wan was all but asleep on his couch. Even with a constant supply of caf he could barely keep going. Having company over right after being released from the Healer wing was definitely not a great idea. His stamina was shot and he found it deeply annoying. 

_Yawning every ten minutes is not a good way to get on Siri's good side,_ Obi-Wan sighed. _Especially after I haven't spoken with her in over ten years. And seeing her briefly that one time during the battle of Geonosis apparently doesn't count._

But aside from that, the impromptu little party went well. He'd heard all about Bant, Garen, and Siri's adventures. And they in turn heard about his. Ferus was partly fascinated by what he learned about his Master and her friends, and partly shocked. Vader spent the time snickering about some new details he overheard and serving everyone drinks and snacks.

"You ready for bed yet?" Vader asked with a smirk.

Obi-Wan scowled in annoyance. "Yes," he sighed.

Vader grinned and cheerfully helped pull Obi-Wan to his feet, then supported him as he staggered off to bed. After making back to the apartment, Obi-Wan's legs had decided to give out and so he spent the entire afternoon and evening sitting on the couch to hide that fact. And now he needed help to walk the few meters to his own room. How embarrassing.

"There you go Obi-Wan," Vader grinned broadly as Obi-Wan wearily sank down onto his bed.

"Thanks," Obi-Wan muttered, stiffly fumbling with his boots.

Vader was halfway out the door, probably heading off to bed himself, when he stopped and turned back with a question. "Hey Obi-Wan?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan stiffly stretched out and settled into bed.

"Can we visit Padmé tomorrow?" Vader asked.

"I just got out of the Healer wing," Obi-Wan sighed. "She'll find out that I'm fine in a few days when the Temple finally gets around to admitting that I'm not dead as previously reported." Thankfully the Council had decided to not immediately release the information that he had survived, which kept the media from snooping around. But now that he was definitely on the mend, it was only a matter of time before the information came out.

"Please," Vader begged. "All you have to do is sit on a couch for an hour or two, and it'll really make her happy."

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face. "Vader–"

"I'll buy you lunch at Dex's." Vader offered hopefully.

Obi-Wan stared at Vader for a long minute. He studied the young man's eager, hopeful expression, considered the lunch offer, and decided. "Fine," he sighed, "we'll visit Padmé tomorrow."

"Thank you," Vader beamed triumphantly.

"You're welcome." Obi-Wan yawned and pulled his sheets over his head.

Vader snickered and turned off the light and shut the door for him. Now alone, he shoved the sheets lower so that he could breathe properly. Moments later, his weariness overtook him and, despite all the caf he'd consumed, he quickly fell asleep. The last thing he remembered hearing, he didn't hear at all.

_(Goodnight Master.)_


	42. 41: Surprise!

**Chapter 41  
**_Surprise!_

Roughly the middle of the next morning, Vader loaded Obi-Wan into one of the Temple's speeders and drove off towards Padmé's apartment. He'd wanted to leave earlier, but Obi-Wan slept in and moved rather slowly. Patience was never his strong point, however Vader forced himself not to rush his Master. After all, Obi-Wan had just been released from the Healers after surviving a harrowing month of imprisonment and torture. Obi-Wan was going to go as slow as he wanted and no one was going to rush him.

Vader was jittery with anticipation, but forced himself to drive like a normal person. If he sped and drove like a crazyman (his usual driving style) Obi-Wan would just get cranky and complain. So, for once, he drove slow and boring, just like his Master preferred.

And that made Obi-Wan suspicious. "You're up to something," he accused.

"Maybe," Vader smirked, "but I promise it's a good something."

Obi-Wan scowled at him skeptically. "Ugh, you're going to be the death of me, do you know that?" He sighed tiredly.

"Oh don't say that Master," Vader cringed.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I don't want you to die," Vader squirmed. "You're…you're the closest thing I've ever had to a father." He hesitantly admitted.

Vader could clearly sense that Obi-Wan was startled by that admission. He said no more though, instead focusing on the crowded Coruscanti airways. It would be most unfortunate – and inconvenient – if they were to crash on their way to see Padmé.

There was no more conversation for the rest of the drive. Vader spied a prime spot on one of the parking pads bordering Padmé's building and slipped right into it. And from there, it was only the small matter of sneaking Obi-Wan into the building relatively unnoticed.

Fortunately, the closest entrance to the building was also the smallest and least used. _Ah, the Force is with us…me…whatever._ Vader grinned and led his slow-moving Master through the door and right into–

"Captain Typho?" Vader blinked as he pulled up short of crashing into the one-eyed head of Padmé's security.

"Padawan Vader, what–?" And then the good Captain's jaw found the floor as his remaining eye caught sight of Obi-Wan.

"Hi Typho," Vader grinned cheerfully, recovering himself. "We were just going to go up to Padmé's apartment. Is she in?"

"Uh, no, not at the moment." Typho managed after a moment. "She and Ellé are out shopping."

"Do you know when they'll be back?" Vader asked curiously.

Typho glanced down at his wrist-chrono. "Soon."

'_Soon' in regards to women and shopping could mean anything._ "Great, we'll just wait up there for her." Vader smiled. "Oh, and keep this quiet, hmm?" He winked.

"Of course," Typho smiled, his shock replaced with amusement. "Though Sabé might be up there, she's just coming off a nasty case of Corellian Flu and Lady Amidala's been letting her use the guest room." He warned.

Vader nodded his thanks and towed Obi-Wan after him. Obi-Wan was rather annoyed, Vader didn't need the Force to tell him that; he'd probably wanted to stay and chat with the Captain for a little while. But, with women and shopping, 'soon' could mean anything…

* * *

Obi-Wan gratefully slumped down onto the Senator's loveseat with a weary sigh. It was sad, he felt wiped out and all he'd done was walk from the parking pad to the lift and to this couch. He was just so tired of being tired!

"So I'm assuming that Senator Amidala is unaware of the fact that I am alive?" Obi-Wan muttered.

"Yep. I thought about telling her, but I decided surprising her would be more fun." Vader grinned.

Obi-Wan shook his head at his Padawan's strange antics. But, watching how comfortably the young man wandered into the kitchen, he wondered. And thinking back to the brief run-in with Captain Typho, he wondered some more. The Captain hadn't been surprised at all to see Vader come in for a visit.

"Have you been visiting here often?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not…recently," came the muffled reply from the kitchen along with some rustling, clanging noises. "But just after Jabiim, yeah I did."

"So, on your return to Coruscant, you sought out the Senator's company?" Obi-Wan frowned. From what he'd been able to tell and from what he'd heard, after getting along very poorly during the body-guarding assignment, they had a truce of sorts. He didn't think Vader was comfortable enough with her, and she with him, for him to just come over.

"Not intentionally. Not the first time anyway." There was the brief sound of running water. Was he making caf or tea in there? "I was taking a walk and ran into Sabé. She needed some help bringing some take-out back for dinner so I helped out and ended up here. Then…she asked what had happened and, well, I kind of fell apart on her. And then I ended up spending the night."

"Oh," Obi-Wan mumbled. Then a flicker of unease wormed its way into his gut. "You spent the night?"

"Yeah." There was a long pause. "I slept on the couch."

"Ah," Obi-Wan sighed in relief. "'The first time'?"

"Padmé extended me the invitation to come over whenever, so I did." Vader reappeared from the kitchen.

"And how often was that?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Every afternoon the week before I was shipped out to Varonat with Master Mundi and Padawan Hett." Vader shrugged, plopping down next to Obi-Wan on the loveseat. "And once more after I brought you back."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan stroked his beard. "So what were you making in there?"

"Boiling water for tea," Vader replied. "Did you want caf?"

"No, tea's fine." Obi-Wan smiled. "I never used to drink caf. But then war broke out and sleep was something I couldn't always afford."

Vader chuckled, "how terrible!"

"Yes," Obi-Wan murmured. As he waited for the tea to be ready, his mind drifted back to Vader's odd comment on the speeder ride over here. "So…you didn't have a father?"

There was a long pause. "That's right. It was always just me and my Mom." Vader replied at last.

"And you gave that up?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. This was the most he'd ever gotten out of the young man. He hoped he wasn't pushing too far.

"Not willingly," Vader mumbled. "Didn't have a choice, wasn't anything she could do about it, or me." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing unconsciously at a spot on his left side, just below his ribs. "Can we talk about something else?"

Obi-Wan nodded, "of course."

The teapot whistled then, drawing Vader away to tend to it. Obi-Wan watched the younger man all but flee into the kitchen. And for the millionth time he wondered…

What had gone so disastrously wrong with Vader? How had Dooku gotten a hold of the boy? And just what had Dooku done to him?

"Mmm," a feminine groan jolted him out of his musings and Obi-Wan looked up to see one of Senator Amidala's Handmaidens leaning against the far wall with her eyes closed and massaging her temples. It looked as if she'd just rolled out of bed, her hair un-brushed and pulled back by a simple hair tie, and a pale pink robe haphazardly yanked on over a rumpled creamy-colored nightgown.

Thinking back, he recalled that Captain Typho had mentioned that Sabé might be here, that she was recovering from an illness, and that Senator Amidala had allowed her to stay here in the guest room. And thinking back further, he realized that he knew her.

Long ago, after Qui-Gon had been killed, she had been the one to look after him. His memory of that time was hazy, he'd mainly been going on autopilot, really only aware when he absolutely had to be. But he remembered her.

"Sabé?" He called softly.

"Ngh, must be hallucinating again," she muttered to herself.

"Uh, hallucinating?" Obi-Wan blinked, mildly alarmed.

"You can't be there. You're dead." She mumbled, still rubbing her temples with her eyes closed.

_Oh, so that's the problem._ "You're not hallucinating Sabé." Obi-Wan smiled reassuringly.

"Sure," she snorted. "Stupid flu. Thought I was almost through it. But no, got to hallucinate one last time."

"It was that bad?" Obi-Wan asked, concerned.

"Mm-hm," she nodded. "Padmé almost had Typho take me to the hospital at one point."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan murmured.

"Why am I even talking to you anyway, you're not there." Sabé groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Who's not there?" Vader asked, reappearing from the kitchen with two steaming teacups.

"Hm?" Sabé opened her eyes and turned to face Vader.

"Who's not there?" Vader repeated, his expression somewhere between confused and amused.

"Oh, I'm seeing things again, that's all." Sabé shrugged, vaguely gesturing in Obi-Wan's direction. "Thought I saw Master Kenobi."

Vader visibly restrained a grin. "You sure you're seeing things?" He asked, amused. "Why don't you go over and poke him, just to be sure?"

"I have to be seeing things," Sabé frowned, annoyed. "All the Holo-Net and News-Fax reports agree that Master Kenobi died on Jabiim."

"Humor me," Vader smiled.

"Fine," she sighed wearily and walked over to do as Vader had suggested.

Obi-Wan smiled faintly in amusement as Sabé stood directly in front of him and reached down with her right index finger to poke his shoulder. When her finger contacted his quite-solid shoulder, her expression became puzzled. Then she placed her entire hand over his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. And then the reality of his presence and current living state dawned on her.

She took a step back and collided with the low set caf table. Knocked off-balance she sat down hard on the table top, barely catching herself before she tumbled any further back. And she just gaped at him, dazed.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan inquired politely.

"I…I…uh…" She stammered, startled, then she collected herself. "Y-yes. Yes, I'm fine." Sabé smiled weakly, deeply confused. Then she glanced down at herself and, realizing that she was in little more than a nightgown, her expression became one of utter dismay. "Oh damn."

"Why don't you go freshen up," Vader suggested cheerfully. "We'll be here for a while."

Sabé nodded, got off the table, and headed for the 'fresher. Then she paused, a thoughtfully expression on her face. Her eyes lit up as she apparently realized something. "You're bad," she told Vader scoldingly. "You're so bad. Padmé's going to strangle you!"

"No she won't," Vader snorted, passing Obi-Wan one of the teacups.

"Yes she will," Sabé called over her shoulder as she vanished from sight.

"Nope!" Vader fired back.

Sabé made no reply.

"Hmph!" Vader grunted. "Even if she _does_ decide to strangle me, she'll be distracted enough by you for me to make my escape," he told Obi-Wan.

"You have this all planned out, don't you?" Obi-Wan mused.

"Mmm, mostly." Vader shrugged, settling down next to Obi-Wan on the loveseat.

"Mind explaining why 'you're so bad'?" Obi-Wan asked.

"She was probably referring to what came up during my last visit here." Vader sipped at his tea. "Padmé noticed I was much better than I had been and called me on it. I decided not to tell her why that was, instead promising to tell her later. She got annoyed, but I assured her that she'd like what I had to tell her." He grinned mischievously now. "And then I mentioned that I had a friend I was going to visit in the Healer wing, and she invited me to bring my friend over to meet her as soon as he was able to come. Really, I'm just doing what she asked."

Obi-Wan shook his head and sipped at his own tea. It was a rather pleasant minty blend, he noted. "I must agree with Sabé," he commented after a minute. "You are bad."

"I know," Vader snickered. Then he sobered and took a long sip of tea, "I know."

* * *

It had been over an hour and Padmé had still not returned from her shopping trip. Obi-Wan and Vader had long since finished their tea and, growing bored, Vader had abandoned the Senator's apartment in favor with seeking out Captain Typho for a chat. Knowing that he lacked the endurance that the short walk and long period of standing around that such an activity required, Obi-Wan stayed behind and was now hovering around the edges of a nap.

A gentle touch to his shoulder roused him from his near-nap state. Obi-Wan sleepily glanced up to see Sabé smiling back at him. She was now properly dressed in a simple forest green gown, free of any elaborate embroidery. Her hair was pulled up into a simple style, unusual for a Nabooan woman according to his limited experience. And she only wore a single necklace, a plain pendant of polished gray stone.

"Did your Padawan ditch you?" She asked curiously.

"Not really, he's gone to bother Typho." Obi-Wan yawned.

"Ah," Sabé sighed, taking the seat next to Obi-Wan. "And probably to better wait for Padmé."

"When exactly is Padmé due back anyway?" Obi-Wan asked. "Typho told us she'd be back soon and that was over an hour ago."

"Hmm," Sabé fiddled with her necklace as she thought. "Padmé did mention that Moteé was due back from Naboo today. Perhaps she and Ellé went to the spaceport to pick her up."

"Moteé and Ellé?" Obi-Wan inquired, unfamiliar with the names.

"Padmé's two most recent Handmaidens. They were hired to replace Cordé and Versé who were killed during those horrendous assassination attempts before the war." Sabé explained.

"And what about Dormé?" Obi-Wan wondered, recalling another of Padmé's Handmaidens who had signed on to assist her during her Senatorial term.

"Her father became gravely ill some months back so she returned to Naboo. I came to take her place." Sabé replied.

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding as he filed away this new information in his memory. Then a new question came to him. "What did you do after Senator Amidala completed her terms as Queen?"

"I remained on Naboo and served Queen Jamilla as a Handmaiden." Sabé answered.

"So, you were still working there during my and my Padawan's visit to the Palace?" He asked and she nodded in reply. "Why didn't I see you then?"

"Well," Sabé chewed her lip. "Between serving Queen Jamilla and looking after your Padawan, I wasn't left with much time. Besides, Padmé seemed to have her heart set on being your main hostess and care-taker, so I left it all to her."

"I see," Obi-Wan murmured thoughtfully. "Thank you for taking care of him for me," he smiled, "I can't think of anyone better for him."

Sabé blushed, shifting in embarrassment. "You flatter me Master Kenobi."

"Merely stating my personal opinion," Obi-Wan smiled.

"Well, thank you," she smiled warmly, leaning over to give him a quick hug.

Obi-Wan was startled, but awkwardly managed to respond in kind. "You are most welcome."

A chime sounded and Sabé hurried to answer the apartment comm. "Yes?"

"_Sabé, you're awake?_" Captain Typho's slightly distorted voice responded.

"Yes I am, what is it?" She asked.

"_Padmé, Ellé, and Moteé have just arrived. Padawan Vader is escorting them up now._" Typho informed her.

"Thank you for the heads-up, Captain." She smiled. "We'll be ready."

"_You're welcome._" Typho replied and cut the connection.

"Hmm," Sabé muttered, adjusting one of her sleeves. "I think I'll brew up some caf." She smiled and vanished into the kitchen.

"And I'll just wait here," Obi-Wan sighed to himself. _It's not like I can really go anywhere. But,_ he cheered himself, _this ought to be interesting…_

* * *

Padmé couldn't help but glance curiously at Vader as they rode the lift up to her penthouse apartment. She'd been quite surprised to see him cheerfully discussing starship design with Captain Typho after returning from her shopping trip and picking up Moteé from the spaceport. And Vader's barely restrained excitement combined with the Captain's odd smile hinted to her that something was going on.

Finally, half-way up to her apartment, she could take it no more. "Alright, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Vader asked, trying to look innocent.

"Don't play dumb with me. Something's going on, I can tell." Padmé frowned, putting down her two full shopping bags to cross her arms over her chest.

"Um," Vader shifted anxiously. "It's a surprise."

"A surprise?" Moteé scowled disapprovingly.

"What kind of surprise?" Ellé inquired suspiciously.

"A good one," Vader hurriedly assured them. "Captain Typho approves," he added.

Neither Handmaiden looked pleased with this answer, and truthfully Padmé wasn't either, but she decided to settle for it. She'd be back in her apartment and find out what it was soon enough. "Well alright," Padmé grumbled, scooping her bags back up.

"Can I carry something for you?" Vader offered helpfully.

"Thank you," Padmé smiled gratefully, passing him the heavier of her two bags.

"No problem," Vader smiled, then stared curiously down at the bag. "Yeesh, what's in here?"

"I needed some new wine glasses." Padmé shrugged.

"I didn't think wine glasses were so heavy," Vader muttered.

"And then I found some cute picture frames and some crystal figurines for my mother's birthday." Padmé continued.

"Oh," Vader blinked. "So that's what you went shopping for…"

"Hm? Oh no, I went shoe shopping." Padmé corrected. "But the shoe store I shop at was in a department store so I just had to look around to see if there were any good sales."

Vader gaped at her. "…oh…"

The lift came to a stop and chimed before the door slid open. Moteé and Ellé stepped out first, looking wary. Vader's assurances that his little surprise was cleared by the Captain had not reassured them. Padmé rolled her eyes at their backs and trailed after them with a mildly annoyed Vader at her side.

First Padmé stopped by her room and deposited her purchases by her bed to be sorted through later. Vader also dumped off the bag he'd been carrying, and Ellé set down the collection of smaller bags she'd been carrying there too. Moteé, since she'd only just arrived and hadn't had time to stop off at her own apartment, went to the guest bedroom to leave her luggage. She'd take it home with her later.

Then, free of burdens, they all proceeded to the common room. Moteé and Ellé led the way, but stopped short at the entryway. Annoyed and curious, Padmé slipped between them and…stopped dead.

He looked tired. He looked paler than he should be, and thinner, though his loose robes and facial hair made it hard to tell. There were half-faded shadows under his eyes, but his eyes themselves sparkled brightly, alert and amused. He sat there, on her loveseat, alive and well. Which, of course, was impossible. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead.

"Surprise," Vader whispered in her ear.

And that was enough to jolt her from her shocked daze, and get the wheels turning in her head. He knew, Vader knew about this, and he hadn't said a word. _That_ was why he'd been so much better the last time she'd seen him. _That _was who had been in the Healer wing that he had been visiting. And _that _was the surprise.

"I ought to strangle you for this," Padmé told the Padawan. "But I'll forgive you this time."

She then proceeded to rush over to the haggard-looking Jedi Master and squeezed the breath out of him.

* * *

Vader was extremely pleased. Things had gone even better than he'd hoped they would. And Sabé was wrong; Padmé _hadn't _strangled him for it.

After Padmé had finished squeezing poor Obi-Wan half to death, the afternoon was spent in relaxed celebration. Moteé and Ellé threw together some snacks in the kitchen and brewed up caf and tea as needed. Sabé and Padmé hovered around Obi-Wan, peppering him with questions and listening intently to his answers. Then when they ran out of questions, they moved on to sharing gossip and whatever else crossed their minds. And Vader just sat back, watched, listened, and enjoyed.

Taking full advantage of his temporary 'invisibility' Vader gleefully observed things mainly unnoticed as Obi-Wan's miraculous return overshadowed everything else. He was happy to see that Obi-Wan was just as annoyed as he was at Moteé and Ellé's subtle disdain for Sabé. And he smirked when Padmé got annoyed enough with the two other Handmaidens to call them on it and sent them to the kitchen for a while.

One thing he picked up on that he found rather strange had to do with Sabé. Specifically, he noticed that she seemed to really like watching Obi-Wan. And there was something else.

While he didn't pick the women's brains through the Force, he did lightly scan them every now and then, just to see how they felt about things. Sabé was surprisingly tricky to read. There was a subtle undercurrent to her that he couldn't discern.

His first thought was that she had some kind of crush on his Master. But that was ridiculous! She had to know that he was a Jedi Master, and a rather traditionally-minded one at that. She _had_ to know that there was no way she'd ever get anywhere with him, ever.

And what did she find so attractive about him anyway? Vader supposed Obi-Wan looked handsome enough, the man certainly wasn't ugly, but who could really tell with all that facial hair? The entire lower half of his face was buried under that prickly, scratchy beard of his. Really, what woman would want to kiss _that_?

So, with that theory shot, he was stumped. He guessed it might have something to do with the fact that she was just coming off an extremely nasty case of Corellian Flu. But he'd never encountered someone who had some unidentified emotion flickering around them just because they'd been sick.

But, aside from that one puzzling thing, the day went well and was over too soon. Well, it wasn't _over_ over, but Obi-Wan got worn out easily. By dinner time, his poor Master looked about ready to keel over.

They stayed long enough to catch dinner with Padmé and her Handmaidens, but then excused themselves. Vader all but carried Obi-Wan out to the speeder and then the worn out Jedi Master ended up falling asleep as his Padawan _carefully_ drove them both back to the Temple. And when they got there, Vader actually felt rather guilty waking the older man up so he could get him back to the room. Obi-Wan just looked so tired that he cringed at disturbing him.

Now Obi-Wan was safely in his room, in bed, and quite unconscious. And Vader was left alone and to his own devices. In this instance, that meant he was lounging on the common room couch in the shared apartment, staring blankly at the vid-screen as he idly channel-surfed the Holo-Net.

He'd meant to talk to Obi-Wan yesterday about what had happened to him in the Fountain Room, but the surprise visit from his Master's old friends had gotten in the way. Then today had been taken up with the visit to Padmé and her Handmaiden friends. And now it looked like he would have to wait until sometime tomorrow to bring the subject up.

Closing his eyes and tuning out the mumbled buzz of the Holo-Net, he looked inward, seeking that one corner of his mind that was becoming more and more familiar. For the past two days he'd been cautiously poking at the mysterious little stringy thing that arced off his own Force presence to…elsewhere. And each time he examined it, it was easier to find and 'clearer' to his 'sight'.

Now as he looked at it, it was hazy, indistinct, and when he 'touched' it, the feeling he got was a sort of blank peace. It was exactly the same every time he 'looked' at it whenever Obi-Wan was asleep. And that was just one more piece of evidence towards an impossible theory.

Gathering his nerve, he decided to try something, just to be sure. He pressed on the anomaly, gave it a mental tweak, and waited to see what would happen. At first nothing happened, but after the third tweak, he got results.

A sense of sleepy annoyance poured over him and Obi-Wan's presence flared in his mind. Vader had his answer. And a grumpy Master who didn't feel awake enough to realize what was going on.

_(Sorry)_, Vader winced, _(go back to sleep.)_

The annoyance drained away, as did Obi-Wan's strong presence, leaving the usual blank feeling of peaceful sleep. It seemed his Master had done as he'd asked and gone back to sleep. With a shaky sigh, Vader pulled his mind outwards again, and opened his eyes.

The impossible theory was somehow possible. He had a bond with Obi-Wan. That was the only explanation. Never mind that he had no memory of forming one, it existed. And he found that he was more bothered by the fact that he didn't remember forming it, than the fact that it existed.

Shaking his head, he returned to flipping through the channels. _Mom always said to be careful what I wished for,_ he reminded himself. _Because I just might get it…_


	43. 42: Suspicions

**Chapter 42  
**_Suspicions_

Obi-Wan leaned back into his couch and sipped at his tea. This particular cup contained Chandrillan cherry tea. It was a sweeter, fruiter blend than he preferred, but Vader seemed to like it. So, to keep the young man from whining about how bland Obi-Wan's favorite teas were, he stocked a wider variety than he had in the past.

It was too quiet, he decided. Vader was off somewhere doing Force-only-knew what. And that left Obi-Wan alone in the apartment.

Normally, when Vader was off in class or doing something else on his own, Obi-Wan would find his own way to keep busy. He might meditate, or go down to the gym and exercise, or visit the Archives, or do paperwork, or leave the Temple to visit Dex, or anything that he could think of to be doing something. Because if he wasn't doing something, his mind had picked up the bad habit of drifting back over the more unpleasant things he'd experienced in his life, most notably his Master's death.

But the problem now was that he simply lacked the energy and stamina to keep busy. It was just over a week since he'd been released by the Healers and while he had improved, it still felt like there were invisible weights attached to his limbs. Just walking down to the cafeteria took a ridiculous amount of effort on his part. But at least he didn't need Vader to escort him everywhere and play the part of Human crutch anymore.

His check-up the previous day with the Healers had gone well. They still wanted him to take it easy, but he was now officially given permission to leave the Temple. When he heard that, he was rather glad that he'd failed to mention his visit to Senator Amidala's apartment to them.

Sighing, Obi-Wan drained the last of his tea and very slowly made his way to the kitchen to dispose of his empty cup. His normal stride was now reduced to something approaching a shuffle as it felt like Coruscant's gravity had mysteriously doubled in strength. _Force, I feel like an old man,_ he grumbled to himself, rinsing out his teacup and putting it away in a cabinet.

Obi-Wan then started to work his way back to the couch. However the door chime caused him to veer off towards the door. When the chime rang again, he forced himself to pick up the pace a bit.

On the other side of his door he found several Council Members including Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Gallia, Master Fisto, Master Tiin, and Master Unduli. Obi-Wan was startled, usually it was only Yoda and Mace that visited him. The other Masters rarely spoke with him outside of official meetings.

"Masters," Obi-Wan blinked, struggling to keep his calm composure. "Come in," he invited, stepping aside so they could pass inside.

The Masters filed in, each finding a seat on one of his couches or armchairs. When they had made themselves comfortable, there was only one seat left, an old wooden chair, the least comfortable one he owned. Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh and sank stiffly down onto the ancient relic that his old Master had picked up from somewhere long before he'd been apprenticed and waited to see what this was about.

"Sorry about dropping in unannounced," Mace apologized, "but we wished to discuss a few things before today's Council session."

_And off the record, of course, _Obi-Wan realized. "It's alright," he assured them. "What is it that you wish to discuss?"

"Where is young Vader?" Adi Gallia inquired.

Obi-Wan forced himself not to wince at the question. "He failed to mention his plans to me this morning, so I don't know where he is."

Collectively, the Masters looked displeased with his answer. Yoda and Mace seemed a tad more forgiving as they were used to dealing with Obi-Wan and his less-than-predictable ward. The others though were not.

"You don't know where he is?" Kit Fisto frowned, very unhappy with Obi-Wan's answer.

"I'm certain he hasn't left the Temple, he would've told me if he was going to do that." Obi-Wan assured them.

The assembled Masters were anything but convinced. "And you trust him?" Luminara Unduli asked, incredulous.

And then Obi-Wan caught on to his mistake. The Council, as a whole, didn't trust Vader. He was one degree away from being an enemy. They didn't personally know the young man. They only had his reports to go on as to how Vader was progressing. And they took everything with a large does of skepticism.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and sat a bit straighter. "Yes, I do."

"Are you sure that is wise?" Saesee Tiin all but growled.

"He has yet to betray my trust in him." Obi-Wan replied.

"That you know of," Luminara pointed out. "There are no remaining Jedi witnesses to his conduct on Jabiim after your capture and you were absent for an entire month afterwards."

"There is also his unexplained behavior as he abandoned his post in the Varonat System." Kit added.

"True," Obi-Wan reluctantly conceded.

"And you have yet to ascertain his activities during his unauthorized absence before your mission to Ansion." Adi reminded him. "The timing of which is highly suspicious."

"Suspicious how?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"Less than a month before the outbreak of war, Vader disappears and gives only a vague excuse of 'a personal matter' to explain it." Adi elaborated, and her suspicion was laid bare. She was suggesting that Vader's conveniently timed absence allowed him time to meet with Dooku or some other conspirator.

_Why is she bringing this up now?_ Obi-Wan wondered as he listened with slowly mounting dread.

"And then there is his odd behavior leaving Varonat and speedy location of you on Riflor." Adi continued. "You share no training bond which might explain away his behavior. So the only conclusion that I can draw is that someone told him where you were."

Looked on in that light, Obi-Wan had to admit that the ideas that Adi strung together were damning. It made a terrible sort of sense, though Obi-Wan didn't believe it. The problem was, he didn't have anything to say, any evidence to refute what Adi was implying.

Obi-Wan glanced over at Mace and Yoda, neither of which had said a word since the discussion began. They remained ominously silent, neither helping nor hurting Obi-Wan's position. And the tense quiet spread, smothering, and feeding the tension in the air, as Obi-Wan groped for something, anything, to say.

"So do you have anything to say, Obi-Wan?" Master Windu asked, finally breaking the silence.

"There really isn't anything that I can say." Obi-Wan sighed wearily. "I trust him and, despite the unexplainable absences, I see no reason to question my trust in him."

That was a risky statement to make. If they disagreed with him, if they felt he could no longer do his duty properly in this issue, they could change the arrangement. Perhaps they might assign some other Master to look over both their shoulders and make sure they behaved. Or worse, they might move to separate them, passing Vader off to a new Master.

"Bold words," Adi murmured after a lengthy silence. "Let us hope that your faith is not misplaced."

"Hmm," Yoda grunted, "a theory I have to explain Vader's finding of Obi-Wan on Riflor."

Obi-Wan glanced sharply over at the ancient green Master. _And you waited until now to share it?_ "Oh?" He inquired with polite interest.

"A bond you must share." Yoda pronounced.

"But Master Yoda how is that possible?" Kit frowned. "Obi-Wan did not initially form a training bond with Vader. Nor has he reported forming one at any time."

"True," Mace interjected, "but a latent bond is another matter."

That startled them all into silence as they grappled with the implications of that idea. Obi-Wan was more shocked than the rest of them, seeing as it had directly to do with him. But then when he forced himself to sit back and consider it, things began to make a great deal of sense.

It certainly explained how Vader had found him so quickly on Riflor. Also, if there was a bond, Vader's behavior made sense; he acted just like a real Orphaned Jedi Padawan who'd suddenly had his Master returned to him. Had Obi-Wan been in a similar situation with Qui-Gon, he'd probably have acted in the same way.

"Is it possible for such a bond to form between…?" Luminara trailed off dubiously.

"Well why not," Saesee mused. "Bonds are not exclusively formed between Jedi. They are possible between any two individuals with enough Force potential."

"But is that the case here?" Adi asked, focusing her blue eyes on Obi-Wan.

The strange incident just before his old friends had come to visit him in the Healer wing suddenly sprang to mind, and Obi-Wan found himself nodding. "I think so."

"Is Vader aware of this?" Kit wondered, tugging on one of his many _lekku_.

Obi-Wan again thought back to that strange occurrence in the Healer wing and the week that had followed. "I believe he does, though he has not spoken to me concerning it."

"Really?" Mace asked, surprised.

All of them were aware of Vader's aversion to mental intrusion. Even light scans could set him off into panic if he wasn't expecting it. The idea that he knew of a bond – a permanent sort of mental contact – and wasn't upset by it, wasn't demanding that it be dissolved, was difficult to believe.

"Test him, you should." Yoda suggested. "Call him here."

Obi-Wan nodded and reached out for that vague tingle he'd noticed, but then forgotten about, in the Healer wing. He found it easily enough and traced towards it's source. This time there was no 'brick wall' to block him, no reflexive barrier to keep him out.

_(Padawan?)_

* * *

Vader strolled through the halls of the Jedi Temple, a datapad in his left hand and an apple in his mechanical right. As he meandered back to the apartment he skimmed over the material he'd picked up from the Archives and munched on his snack. Though his eyes were glued to the datapad screen, he didn't run into anything or anyone. The Force was his guide, if he was about to stumble into something solid it warned him.

His selected reading material was a digital copy of some ancient text titled The Force and It's Connections. At first glance it looked like this text might contain some information that would explain the mysterious bond he'd fumbled over. But so far, all the reading had done for him was bore him. It was written in an outdated, dry style that was difficult to read through. He was getting ready to give up on it.

There was a rising tingling sensation in the back of his head and – _(Padawan?)_

Vader froze mid-step, his mouth half-way through taking another bite of his apple. For a moment he couldn't think, couldn't move. And then a group of passing Initiates, giggling over some joke, broke the startled spell. Feeling a little embarrassed at his reaction, he moved to stand along the hallway wall.

_It's just Obi-Wan,_ he chided himself. _Don't be such a baby. (What?)_

_(Where are you?)_ Obi-Wan asked curiously.

_(In a hallway, heading back to the apartment.)_ Vader sent back.

_(Oh good.)_ Obi-Wan replied with slightly strained cheerfulness. _(Half the Council decided to stop by for a visit and they wish to see you.)_

Vader felt a knot of dread start to tie itself up in his insides. _(Really?)_

_(Yes.)_ Obi-Wan confirmed. Then there was a calming wave of reassurance. _(It will be alright.)_

_(I'm coming, I'm coming.)_ Vader swallowed, leaning heavily into his Master's support for a moment before continuing on his way.

His reading and snack all but forgotten, Vader trudged down the hallway, feeling the knot of dread tighten and grow. When he reached the apartment he shared with his Master, he tucked his datapad under his arm and palmed the door open with his left hand. And, as Obi-Wan had said, half of the Jedi Council was visiting in the common room.

The aged troll, Master Yoda, and the dark-hued Human, Master Mace Windu, were there, of course. And joining them were four others. There was Master Kit Fisto, the green amphibious Nautolan with enormous unblinking black eyes and a mass of _lekku _(the Twi'lek term for head tentacles) for hair. Then there was the fierce-looking horned Master Saesee Tiin, an Iktotchi with phenomenal piloting skills. Next was the chocolate-skinned Human, Master Adi Gallia, a Corellian with a very strange headdress that made it look like she had _lekku_ of her own. And finally there was Master Luminara Unduli, a Mirialan with startlingly blue eyes, oddly colored skin that looked somewhere between tan, gold, and pale green, and a vertical stripe of black, diamond-shaped tattoos on her chin.

Forcing himself not to squirm or fidget under the combined weight of their gazes, he walked over to stand at Obi-Wan's shoulder. He noticed that the visiting Masters had taken up all the nice, comfortable seats, leaving Obi-Wan with the crappy wooden chair that no one ever used. Vader wasn't sure he was happy about that. Didn't poor beat-up Obi-Wan deserve one of the nicer chairs?

"You wished to see me?" Vader murmured, bowing slightly.

"Yes," Master Windu nodded gravely. "Now that you're here, I believe Master Tiin has something he wishes to discuss."

"I do," the Iktotchi Master agreed, leaning forward a bit. "It has fallen to me to decide who will field-test the new Eta-2 fighters we've received. After much consideration I must ask, would you be willing to test them on your next deployment?"

Vader was having a really hard time keeping his jaw from hitting the floor. _Seriously? Is he serious? Really?_

"Hmm," Obi-Wan considered for a moment, stroking his beard. "We would be more than happy to," he agreed.

Vader nodded his consent, somehow holding back a wide smile. _You're supposed to look calm and dignified when facing the Jedi Council. No grinning like an idiot allowed._

"Well that's settled then. As soon as there are Astromech droids available for your use, you are cleared for flight." Master Tiin declared.

"Thank you Master Tiin," Obi-Wan replied.

Vader nodded again, too busy trying to contain his excitement to come up with an appropriate verbal response.

"To business we must be getting," Master Yoda sighed and slipped down from his seat on one of the couches. "Grateful we are for your time. May the Force be with you."

The other Masters rose and repeated Master Yoda's farewell. Obi-Wan repeated the old phrase back to the Masters and he and Vader gave slight bows of respect. Then they strode from the apartment off to the Council Room to do whatever business they had for the day. And now, out from under their scrutiny, Vader finally allowed himself to smile.

_I get to fly an Eta-2!_

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed in relief after the door snapped shut behind the other Masters. Running a hand over his face, he leaned back in the wooden chair and let the tension slowly drain out. _Well that was unpleasant,_ he sighed.

Glancing over at Vader, he saw that the young man had melted into one of the open couches and was now munching on a half-eaten apple he'd been carrying with a dreamy sort of smile on his face. _Of course he's happy,_ Obi-Wan grumbled. _The new Jedi Starfighter that he's been fantasizing about he flying is now all but his._

"So how has your day been?" Obi-Wan asked, stiffly getting up from the wooden chair and shuffling over to a more comfortable, cushioned armchair.

Vader made no reply. It didn't even look as if he'd heard the question in the first place. He just half-laid on the couch and stared up at the ceiling with a dreamy, contented expression. Clearly he was day-dreaming about flying again.

Obi-Wan decided to try a different angle of attack. _(So how has your day been?)_ He repeated.

The young man started, blinked dazedly for a moment, and then fixed Obi-Wan with a rather sour look. "Hey, I was in the middle of a good day-dream."

"I could tell," Obi-Wan smirked slightly, "now would you kindly answer my question?"

Vader took a large bite out of his apple as he considered his answer. "Fine for the most part," he shrugged. As he chewed on another bite of his fruit, something seemed to occur to him. "Hey Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?" Obi-Wan replied.

"Do you…um…could you…" Vader stammered, unsure of how to ask the question he had. _(Could you explain this?)_

While the question was vague, Obi-Wan understood perfectly what he wanted to know. "Yes I can. In fact that was part of the discussion that you missed." Obi-Wan shifted in the armchair to make himself more comfortable before continuing.

"There are several types of Force bonds, the most common of which is the training bond between a Master and a Padawan. The type of bond that Master Yoda believes is involved here is called a latent bond. In the past such bonds were common, but they have become increasingly rare." Obi-Wan explained, _which is another reason why the other Masters are reluctant to believe it._

"So how is this 'latent bond' thingy different from a training bond?" Vader asked, now sitting up straight on the couch, leaning forward in interest.

"For one it is not consciously formed by either of the involved parties. Instead it spontaneously forms over time between two Force-sensitives who are closely associated with each other. And unlike a training bond, which is meant to be severed at a certain point, a latent bond is only broken by the death of one of those involved." Obi-Wan answered.

"Hmm," Vader took another bite of his snack and chewed it thoughtfully. "So I'm stuck with this?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded. "Does that bother you?" He asked worriedly.

There was a long pause as Vader finished off the last of his apple. "No, not really. Does it bother you?"

"No," Obi-Wan shrugged. "I was more worried that you would have a problem with it, given your history."

"Ah," Vader sighed, rising off the couch to go dispose of the apple core. When he returned from that little errand, he dumped a deactivated datapad on the caf table and settled back down on the couch. "Well, I'll get used to it."

Obi-Wan was startled at how easily Vader brushed it off. To think that a young man who used to reflexively attack others who tread too closely to the borders of his mind would be perfectly fine with a bond just a few years later was hard for him to believe. And yet that seemed to be case here.

"So why didn't you bring this up earlier?" Obi-Wan asked after some contemplation. "I know you picked up on the bond before I did."

Vader shifted uncomfortably. "Stuff just kept getting in the way."

"Well, 'stuff' only gets in the way when you allow it to." Obi-Wan pointed out. "And in times like these, if you put something off for too long, then you could miss your chance forever." He warned.

The young man swallowed and stared down at his hands. "Right," he muttered, rising to wander off into his room.

Obi-Wan exhaled wearily and rubbed his eyes. It seemed he'd given his young apprentice something to think about, just as he'd hoped. But would it be enough to get Vader to open up on his own about some of his more risky secrets? Or would he have to be more direct and ask him? Obi-Wan hoped it would be the former, rather than the latter…


	44. 43: Promotion

**Chapter 43  
**_Promotion_

Vader rocked back on his heels and snapped closed an access panel on the underside of his shiny new Eta-2. He'd already taken it on a few short hops around the Coruscant System, just to get a feel for how it handled, and what he'd experienced so far had left him impressed. But it still suffered at least one flaw in common with the older Delta-7.

Disappointingly there was no internal hyperdrive. Instead, just like the Delta-7, it depended on a booster ring to achieve lightspeed. The rings designed for the Eta-2 were larger and had greater speed and longer range, but it was still annoying to have to dock with one to make a hyperspace jump. And there was always the risk that the ring could be destroyed with the fighter was on deployment, possibly stranding it in whatever system it was in at the time.

He had a plan to fix that though. Ever since he discovered the Eta-2's deficiency he'd had his eye out for a small hyperdrive unit. The instant he found a suitable one, he'd install it into his fighter and be free of the stupid booster rings and all the hassle associated with them.

And there was one other specific thing he wanted to do to modify his Starfighter. He wanted to give it a paint job. At the moment it was already painted the basic default of red and white. But he was thinking of changing it to yellow and white, similar to the color scheme of his old pod-racer. As soon as he found the proper paint and the time to do it, he'd do it.

But until then, he'd just tinker around with his new toy, make minor adjustments and such. It was the best way he knew to pass the time until he and Obi-Wan were shipped out to some front to do battle. Vader rubbed his hands free of grease before rising and climbing up towards the cockpit.

"Okay Artoo, run that diagnostic again." Vader ordered, peering down at the cockpit's displays.

ON IT! The blue trimmed Astromech squealed delightedly. Vader couldn't help but grin at the droid's seemingly endless enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, his old droid, R4-P44, remained firmly bolted into his old Delta-7. The techs and mechanics of the Temple's hanger were busy enough as it was fixing and servicing the small fleet of Jedi vehicles. They didn't have time to unhook his old partner and reattach his lower half so that Vader could use him in the new Eta-2.

Since he was deprived of his old droid, it had looked like he'd be going the same route as his Master. Obi-Wan's old droid friend, R4-P17, was also trapped in the Master's old Delta-7. So he was granted a temporary replacement until Arfour could be freed up, a brassy-domed droid called R4-G9 (which was immediately shortened to 'Geenine'). And though the arrangement was meant to be temporary, Obi-Wan had gone so far as to have Arfour's flight data copied into Geenine so, despite being parted from his old droid, he still wouldn't have to fly his fighter himself unless he got sucked into a battle.

But fate intervened in Vader's case. Instead of getting stuck with a strange droid that he'd have to get used to, the Force decided to smile on him. He got to use R2-D2, Padmé's spunky blue Astrodroid, for an indefinite period.

The subject had come up innocently in conversation when Vader had swung by Padmé's apartment for a visit a week ago. He'd complained about the inconvenience the whole mess with the droids was, and she'd come up with a solution. She offered to lend him Artoo for as long as he needed the old droid.

Artoo was bored just hanging around the apartment with her, she claimed. He liked action and adventure. The droid would be much happier out seeing the galaxy with Vader, fighting in the war. And besides, that way Artoo could help look after Vader, make sure nothing bad happened to him.

Vader had gladly accepted the loan of the droid. Artoo was awesome! Unique among all the droids he'd ever dealt with, he loved the thing to death. Being allowed to use and work with the Astromech was probably the greatest thing Padmé could do for him. And he thought she knew it too.

ALL DONE! Artoo chirped, pulling Vader out of his little reverie.

"Hmm," Vader hummed, studying the read-outs with a critical eye. "Better, definitely better," he mused thoughtfully. "But I think we can tweak the tolerances just a little bit more. Be right back."

He hopped down from the Starfighter's wing to get back at the access panel, barely hearing Artoo's whistle of confirmation. As he burrowed back into the guts of his ship, he paused long enough to consult a nearby chronometer. It was starting to get late and Obi-Wan still hadn't gotten around to contacting him.

Early that morning his Master had been summoned before the Jedi Council. Alone. So to entertain himself and keep busy while he waited for Obi-Wan to be released, Vader had come down the hanger to tinker.

Now it was nearly dinnertime and still no Obi-Wan. It was enough to make Vader worry a little. What the heck were they talking about that was taking so long?

_It's probably about me, _Vader sighed. _This war's making them more and more paranoid and they're losing their patience with my secretive nature. Force this sucks…_

Vader chewed his lip in concentration as he delicately probed and adjusted various components inside the Starfighter. As he worked, his hands quickly got dirty again. But he didn't worry much about it as his focus was solely on what he was doing. When he felt he had it tuned just right, he returned to the cockpit and had Artoo run the scan again.

It had nearly been a month since Obi-Wan had been released from the Healers' care. His Master was doing much better now. His strength had returned and he was back to almost perfect condition. Vader was certain they'd be shipped out again any day now. And he wanted to get his Starfighter to be ready for action.

The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted him before he could see the results. Vader turned to see Siri Tachi, Obi-Wan's old friend and Ferus Olin's Master, standing nearby. She didn't look very happy.

"Can I help you Master Tachi?" Vader asked politely.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Obi-Wan is, would you?" She asked with a frown.

"Last I saw him, he was heading off to meet with the Jedi Council." Vader shrugged. "I haven't seen him since."

Her frown deepened. "Really?"

"Yeah," Vader nodded. "Why are you looking for him? If you don't mind my asking."

"He promised to work-out with me," she all but pouted. "But he didn't show, and he didn't give any reason why. He's usually more reliable than this."

Vader shrugged helplessly, wiping the fresh grease from his hands on a rag. Siri looked at him thoughtfully, and then smiled an almost wicked smile. Vader wasn't sure he liked that smile.

"Are you busy Padawan Vader?" She asked curiously.

"No," he replied warily.

"Good, come with me." She commanded. "If I can't get Obi-Wan to spend time with me, I'll just have to steal you from him."

Gulping anxiously, Vader waved a hurried farewell to Artoo and scampered after the rapidly moving Jedi Knight. He felt a vague sort of dread concerning Knight Tachi's statement, but there was nothing he could do about it. _What have I gotten into now?_

* * *

Less than an hour later, Vader found himself locked in a lightsaber duel with Ferus Olin. It seemed Siri Tachi's plan was to use him as a sparring partner for her own Padawan. And she appeared dead set on working to both of them until they dropped. 

Panting, Vader and Ferus drew away from each other, both sizing up their opponent. Vader felt overheated and absolutely disgusting as his sweat-soaked tunics stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Ferus appeared to be suffering similarly though he struggled to keep it from being obvious.

"Alright boys," Siri smiled, "five minute break." And then she wandered off, leaving them to relax briefly.

Vader slumped in relief and snapped his sapphire blade off. Irritated by the damp nasty feel of his tunics, he started to peel them off to escape. Ferus switched off his own emerald saber and started at Vader like he was insane.

"What are you doing?" Ferus blinked.

"I don't know about you, but I can't stand sweaty shirts, so I'm taking them off." Vader snorted.

"But…" Ferus sputtered. Then he seemed to think about it before giving in and doing the same.

Vader sighed after he managed to claw his way out of his sticky gray under-tunic. Now with his skin exposed to the open air, he felt much cooler and comfortable. Kicking his discarded tunics off the sparring mat, he spun his saber hilt around in his left hand as he prepared to go at it again.

Ferus froze and stared at Vader. Specifically, at the join between the stump of Vader's right arm and his gaudy golden skeletal prosthetic and the thick scar just under the left edge of his ribcage. Vader scowled back at his former lab partner, shifting uncomfortably.

"Would you stop the staring please?" Vader growled.

"I always meant to ask what happened to your hand." Siri commented, returning with some water for them.

"It got chopped off," Vader shrugged, gratefully taking the offered water.

"But how? And when?" Siri frowned.

"Count Dooku took offense to me on Geonosis." Vader muttered vaguely, taking a gulp of cool water.

"You fought with Count Dooku?" Ferus goggled.

"You _survived_ fighting with Count Dooku?" Siri asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Vader squirmed anxiously. "Can we get back to what we were doing now?"

"Well, since you're so eager…" Siri smirked. "Freestyle, go!"

Ferus quickly took one last gulp of water and reactivated his green blade. Vader was a half a second ahead of him, bringing his sapphire lightsaber around in a low strike that Ferus couldn't quite block. The blue beam of coherent light managed a glancing blow to the other Padawan's shin. Hissing in shocked and pained surprise at the touch of the low-intensity blade, Ferus struck back and the spar picked up again.

Originally, Knight Tachi had set the two of them on paired katas, choreographed fights where, if they are performed correctly, hold no risk of injury for either participant. But after setting them through a couple of those, she decided to spice things up. She set them on freestyle sparring, where the entire thing is improvised and the outcome is uncertain.

The two of them danced over the mat. Sometimes Vader held the upper hand, sometimes it was Ferus. Neither held the advantage for very long though and the duel dragged on. Then, just as Vader swore his muscles and lungs were sobbing for mercy, he found the opening he needed. With a tricky twist of the wrist, he disarmed Ferus and then brought his blade to the side of the other Padawan's neck, freezing him in place.

"I concede," Ferus muttered unhappily, gasping for breath.

Satisfied, Vader switched off his weapon and bowed to his opponent. _I'm back in business! _He crowed to himself. And it was true, he was back up to his old level of proficiency after his sudden drop after returning from Jabiim. If he were to face the odd A'Sharad Hett now, the Tusken wannabe would be the one on the losing end.

But as he finished his bow, he realized that their audience had expanded somewhat. Instead of just Knight Tachi observing them, there was now a handful of other Padawans watching. Vader recognized A'Sharad Hett, which meant that he and Master Mundi had finally returned from Varonat, and Barris Offee, Luminara Unduli's Padawan who he had met on Ansion. But the other two were strangers to him. He'd seen them before in his classes, he just didn't know their names.

"Most impressive," A'Sharad commented in his mask-muffled voice.

"Thanks," Vader panted, working to catch his breath.

"How come you never fought like that when you sparred with me?" A'Sharad asked.

Vader grimaced, "I wasn't in the best state of mind to be doing much at the time."

"Oh, what was wrong?" One of the mystery Padawans, a Human girl with bright red hair, asked with innocent curiosity.

"I thought my Master had been killed," Vader grumbled, looking around for the towels so he could dry off a bit.

That seemed to shut them all up as he wandered over to a shelf holding little towels. As he wiped the excess sweat off he looked forward to the shower he'd have to take. A nice long hot shower sounded like heaven to him and his worn out muscles.

"What happened to your back?" Barris Offee demanded in her cool voice.

Vader stiffened for a second. First in confusion. And then in realization. _Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap…_

He'd forgotten about the scars on his back. Watto had never whipped him. But Gardulla's minions and Dooku had. As a small child, he'd assisted in Gardulla's kitchens and every time he'd broken a dish, the cook had whipped him with his belt. Dooku had used an electrified force-whip on a few occasions seemingly for no other reason than he felt like it. Those punishments hadn't left him with many scars, fewer deep ones, but enough for them to not be mistaken for anything else other than what they were.

And now everyone who was looking could see them because he'd forgotten and taken his tunics off. Cursing himself, he tossed the used towel into a bin and stalked over to collect his discarded sweaty tunics. He started to pull his loose dark brown outer tunic on so he could walk through the halls of the Jedi Temple without being overtly glared at, when a hand on his shoulder forced him to stop.

"What happened to your back?" It was Ferus this time who asked.

Vader roughly shook free of the hand and finished pulling on the over-tunic. "It's nothing." He growled.

"That's not 'nothing'," the other mystery Padawan, a silvery skinned male humanoid of some kind, protested quietly.

"It's nothing," Vader stiffly insisted, gathering up his things.

"That's a lie if I ever heard one." Knight Tachi declared.

Vader didn't even bother replying to her. He just took his things and strode out of the gym. On the way out he almost crashed into Obi-Wan, but he didn't stop, didn't say a word. He just threw up some shields, put a block on his end of the bond, and kept on walking. All he thought about was the nice hot shower waiting for him.

* * *

Obi-Wan blinked, startled, as Vader rushed by him, a dark cloud almost visible over his head. He stared after the young man striding down the hallway, puzzled. He tried to lightly probe the Padawan, but hit a prickly brick wall. Confused, he left Vader be in favor of entering the gym and finding out just what had set off his dark mood. 

Over by one of the sparring mats was a collection of Padawans and his old friend Siri. They were all staring after where Vader had exited. None of them seemed to notice that he had arrived.

"So what did I miss?" Obi-Wan asked curiously, walking over to them.

The assembled group gave a guilty start. Siri was the first to regain her composure. "Did you know your Padawan has whip scars on his back?" She demanded.

_Oh, so that's it,_ Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, I am aware that he has whip scars." He ran a hand through his hair. "And I assume you tried to find out where he got them."

"Yes," Siri frowned. Her cool gaze commanded answers.

"And I also assume that he refused to answer your questions." When they didn't deny it, Obi-Wan continued. "Well then you exactly as much as I do about them then. He's had those scars since before he came into my company and I have yet to discover when he got them or who gave them to him."

"I don't understand," Siri folded her arms over her chest. "How could you not know? Isn't it listed in his records?"

"His records are incomplete." Obi-Wan hesitantly admitted.

Normally there were detailed records kept on each child admitted to the Jedi Temple for training. But Vader was 'admitted' at fifteen and his records, sparse as they were, were altered so that a casual glance wouldn't pick up on how odd they were. If anyone were to study them, trace down some of the information they contained, they would find a lot of speculation and even outright lies covering over a whole lot of nothing.

"Incomplete?" Siri sputtered incredulously. "How–"

"I can't say," Obi-Wan sighed, "and it's best not to ask any further. If he wishes to reveal anything, he will, and he will in his own time, not before."

Siri looked very unhappy, and in Obi-Wan's experience that meant trouble. "That doesn't explain anything Obi-Wan. How can his records be incomplete?"

"I can't say," Obi-Wan repeated, struggling not to cringe.

"You can't say?" Siri scowled. "What is this, some kind of conspiracy?"

Obi-Wan cringed as her raised voice started to attract attention from some others nearby in the gym. The five Padawans, including Siri's own, were distressed enough as it was at the idea that the Jedi Order was involved in any sort of conspiracy. This had to be stopped quickly.

"Walk with me," Obi-Wan invited, hoping to lead Siri to the relative privacy of his apartment.

Siri stiffened up defiantly. "No."

"Please Siri, you're being difficult." Obi-Wan pleaded.

"Your Padawan has unexplained scars, incomplete records, you won't say anything about why, and you're complaining about me 'being difficult'?" She all but snapped.

"Please Siri," Obi-Wan struggled not to whine. Jedi Masters did not whine. "Why don't we go speak to Master Yoda and see if he can't explain things better?" He suggested. _Please say yes, please, please, please…_

"Passing off responsibility to Master Yoda, eh?" Siri sniffed, but thankfully she decided to move.

"You can look at it that way." Obi-Wan sighed, gratefully leading her towards Master Yoda's apartment.

"Then I will," Siri replied coolly as they left the cluster of anxious Padawans behind.

_Oh she's angry, _Obi-Wan groaned. _And my missing our little work-out date probably isn't helping._ He sighed as Siri strode alongside him through the halls, a tense unhappy expression firmly affixed to her face. _But really, how was I supposed to know that I was going to be appointed to the Jedi Council today?_

* * *

Vader lay stretched out on the couch gazing at the vid-screen that hung on the wall through half-open eyes. His hair was still damp from his nice long shower and he'd changed into fresh, dry robes. Pod-racing was on, the Malastare 500. 

The door chimed. He ignored it. The chime sounded again. He ignored it. But by the sixth or seventh ring, he was annoyed enough to get up and see just who the hell wanted to see him so badly.

Ferus was there. Vader shut the door and walked back to the couch. The door chimed again and again, but he refused to answer the door. Ferus could spend all day ringing his bell out there, he didn't care.

"Please open the door," Ferus called, his voiced muffled by the door.

"Go away," Vader shouted back, not even turning to face the door.

Instead of leaving, he rang the door chime again. Vader clenched his teeth and refused to move. But after another five rings or so, he was thoroughly sick of it. He stormed over to the door and viciously jabbed the 'open' button.

"What?" He snarled, glaring furiously.

"May I come in?" Ferus asked, his tone edged in nervousness.

Vader stared Ferus down for a few minutes. When he didn't back off he walked back to the couch, but left the door open. "Do what you want." He growled.

He came in and took a seat on the second couch. Vader ignored him, focusing instead on the pod-race. His visitor shifted anxiously, but for many long minutes failed to say anything. Then…

"My Master is rather upset." Ferus stated.

"Oh?" Vader grunted in disinterest.

"She tried to get answers out of your Master, but he wouldn't tell her anything." Ferus continued. "She didn't like that and claimed some possible conspiracy…"

Vader turned to stare over at Ferus. "And what do you think?"

"I'm not sure what to think," Ferus shrugged vaguely, staring down at the carpet. "I mean, mysterious scars, incomplete records, your…your name… It's all highly suspicious."

"Yeah, suppose it is," Vader muttered, tracing his fingers over the cool metal of his prosthetic.

"So…can you tell me what's going on?" Ferus asked hesitantly.

"No," Vader denied flatly.

Ferus shifted anxiously. "Well, Master Siri has gone to see Master Yoda. She'll find out something."

"Hmph," Vader grunted. He wasn't all that worried. Yoda was a crafty old backwards talker, he would handle stubborn Knight Tachi just fine.

Ferus fell silent, leaving the only sound in the apartment from the pod-race on the vid-screen. The Malastare 500 had ended and now the announcers were dissecting the various participants' actions and strategies. As he watched a rather spectacular crash Vader rolled his eyes. _Some things never change, Sebulba's still a cheat…_

"I really don't understand your fascination with this sport." Obi-Wan sighed, seeming to materialize out of thin air behind the couch.

Vader turned to glance up at his Master and was immediately struck at how unhappy and weary he looked. Lifting the block on his end of the bond he was hit with a rush of tiredness laced with a faint tone of grief. He sat up straight, snapped out of his sullen sulk, and was instantly concerned.

"Master?" He asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, just a busy day." Obi-Wan assured his Padawan, though Vader was certain he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Padawan Olin, I believe your Master is looking for you." He informed Ferus.

"Thank Master Kenobi." Ferus rose, bowed, and hurriedly exited the apartment.

Now alone, Vader asked again. "What's wrong?"

"Siri was just being her usual, difficult self is all." Obi-Wan muttered running a hand through his hair. "Master Yoda promised her that she would find the answers she sought in due time and she didn't take it all that well. I don't think she'll be speaking to me anytime soon."

Vader wilted. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"I got you in trouble with your friend." Vader mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his tunic sleeve.

"It's alright," Obi-Wan smiled, patting his shoulder. "She gets like that sometimes, I'm quite used to it." He paused before launching into a completely different subject. "Now I seem to recall that you promised to buy me a meal at Dex's a while back."

Vader thought for a moment, then sighed. "Oh yeah…" He'd promised to buy Obi-Wan something from Dex's if he would come and visit Padmé shortly after being released from the Healers'. He still hadn't followed up on that. "I did."

"I think I'd like that now." Obi-Wan smiled faintly.

"Alright," Vader agreed, rolling off the couch and scooping up his cloak.

Obi-Wan led him out of the apartment and through the Jedi Temple. As they walked, Obi-Wan seemed to cheer, most likely because he was about to get some free food. But as they approached a side door that would lead them towards Coco Town and Dex's Diner, Vader thought of something.

"Hey Master. Why did your meeting with the Council run so long?" Vader asked.

"Oh, they decided to surprise me and appoint me to fill the empty seat." Obi-Wan shrugged, stepping out onto the street. "And then they kept me all day in meetings."

"So…" Vader blinked, trying to make sense of this startling new information. "You're part of the Jedi Council now?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded.

Vader pondered this for a while. "So is it as boring as I think it is?"

"Sitting on the Council is a great honor and an enormous responsibility." Obi-Wan countered sternly.

"It's boring then," Vader replied, feigning a yawn.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "What I am going to do with you?"

"I don't know," Vader shrugged. "What _are_ you going to do with me?"

Obi-Wan just sighed in mock despair.

Vader grinned mischievously as he strolled alongside his Master. _Dex's always makes a bad day better,_ he thought cheerfully. _Even if I'm the one buying…_


	45. 44: Vengeance

**Chapter 44  
**_Vengeance_

The inky void was filled with explosions. Laser fire and the odd torpedo touched off brief but brilliant balls of expanding heat and plasma. Sometimes that heralded the death of some clones, sometimes just the destruction of an automated drone.

High above Separatist stronghold of Muunilinst, the home of the InterGalactic Banking Clan,a major financier of the Confederation of Independent Systems, the battle raged. If the Republic managed to capture this world, they would cripple the Separatists and their pocketbook. It would be a most important victory…if they could get it.

Vader clenched his teeth and went into a dive steep enough to make Artoo scream as he swooped down to obliterate a droid Tri-Fighter. They were a recent innovation that the Separatists were churning out en mass. Unlike the smaller, more versatile Vulture droids, they were dedicated space fighters with no terrestrial mode. And while they could be devastating in huge swarms that overwhelmed Republic squadrons, they were just as predictable as the Vulture droids.

Without pausing for a breath he twisted into a tight spiral and arced off to one side, blasting through a dense cloud of Vultures. On the other side he picked off another Tri-Fighter that was dogging a clone-piloted ARC-170. And then he made a tight one-eighty, swinging back around to blast away at the flock of Vultures he'd previously ignored.

Obi-Wan was out here somewhere, probably whining about having to actually pilot for himself. Vader was supposed to be playing the part of his wingman, but the chaos of battle and the adrenalin high he was getting had led him astray. He was just enjoying his high performance Eta-2 too much to follow Obi-Wan's more conservative lead.

A flicker at the corner of his eye drew his gaze as he sought new targets. He glanced over to see something that wasn't a Vulture droid or a Tri-Fighter. It kind of looked like the fighter that Obi-Wan and Alpha had stolen to escape from their mystery captor. Except the S-foils were extended, changing the rod-like profile into a shiny, half-circular fan shape.

Intrigued, Vader veered off to chase it down. Oddly, the exotic mystery fighter seemed oblivious to him shadowing it. The fighter just kept weaving through the chaotic mass of dogfights, apparently seeking a specific target. Vader took advantage of this to try and probe it.

He didn't find much. Whoever the pilot was, they had tight mental shields. He couldn't get any sort of read on him. All he could tell was that his nemesis wasn't a droid. A strange sense of unease began to seep through his adrenalin haze and he debated breaking off his pursuit.

But then the fan-blade fighter suddenly whipped around and charged him head on. Vader snarled a litany of Huttese curses and twisted aside at the last moment to avoid a collision with the suicidal enemy. Continuing to spew profanity, his startled panic quickly morphed into fury. _Crazy bastard almost killed us both!_

Drawing on a fresh burst of adrenalin, Vader snapped his fighter around and kicked the afterburners into high gear as he darted after the fan-blade. That crazy psycho was going down! And he was the one who would do it.

As the pursuit intensified, Vader's anger and frustration grew. Every time he had the fan-blade in his sights, the fighter would twitch left or right, breaking his targeting lock. And whenever he did manage a hit, the fighter's shield would soak up the damage, leaving the fan-blade unscathed.

Before he realized it, the fighter had led him away from the thick of the fighting and away from the planet. The fan-blade was rapidly approaching the hyper-limit, the point where a ship is far enough from a gravity well, a planet for example, to make the jump to lightspeed. Vader narrowed his eyes in concentration as he sped up further.

_Oh no you don't! _He snarled silently as he struggled to cut the fleeing enemy off. _You're not getting away from me!_ Vader tried to arc around and block the fan-blade's escape route, but the enemy fighter suddenly decelerated at the last moment and elegantly twirled around him, an S-foil almost scraping over his cockpit pod. And then the fan-blade accelerated again, rocketing out into deep space.

Then a light on his console flashed, indicating an incoming transmission. Scowling, Vader jabbed the accept key. A text-only message scrolled over his screen.

YOUR PILOTING SKILLS ARE PATHETIC. PERHAPS YOU'LL BE MORE OF A CHALLENGE ON THE GROUND. FOLLOW ME IF YOU DARE.

Amended to the message was a series of numbers, spatial coordinates for a NavComputer. Vader gaped at the message as his foe made the jump to lightspeed. He couldn't believe what he was reading.

_Bastard!_ Swallowing a scream he locked the provided coordinates into the computer and prepared to jump after the jerk. He was blind to Artoo's worried text messages that flashed over the screen. He was deaf to Obi-Wan's repeated hails. As he keyed up the internal hyperdrive he'd just installed last week, his mind was focused on one thing.

_You're going to die bastard!_

* * *

When Vader dropped out of hyperspace, he found himself alone in a rather barren system, a place the NavComputer listed as Yavin. There was a star (of course), a small ring of rocky debris circling it, and a single large orange gas giant just beyond that. A quick consultation of his sensor readouts told him it was uninhabited, there was no noisy signal traffic or ships in the area. 

_Damn it, did that bastard trick me?_ Vader snarled, glaring venomously at the sensor results. What little calm he had achieved during the half hour long hyperspace jump was shattered as he raged at his own stupidity. _Never trust an enemy! The slime ball tricked me into leaving the real fight!_

However, before he turned around and left, the incoming transmission light blinked again. He glared at it for a moment before pressing the accept key. Another text-only message came up with some in-system coordinates attached.

SO YOU CAME. IMPRESSIVE. NOW LET ME SEE WHAT YOU'VE GOT. COME AND GET ME.

Vader felt like he was going to explode. Ignoring Artoo's worried warnings and pleas to turn back, he steered his Eta-2 towards the orange gas giant, also called Yavin, specifically Yavin's fourth moon.

Yavin IV, while it was a moon, was the size of the average life-sustaining planet. It had a breathable atmosphere and liquid water, two things that made the moon comfortable for most intelligent species. The damp humid climate supported a dense tropical jungle and probably a very diverse biosphere.

Vader didn't care. He was too busy trying to find a clearing large enough to land. Eventually he did find a spot near some ancient stone ruins.

After landing he hopped out of the cockpit, unhooked his saber hilt, and looked around in search of his foe. He didn't see a soul. And he was starting to think that the slime ball was justjerking his chain.

He growled deep in his throat and slowly wandered away from his Eta-2 towards the moss-covered temple ruin. Behind him Artoo squealed anxiously, but he didn't even glance back. His mind was on finding that fan-blade pilot, if he was down here at all, and beating him senseless.

There was a distinctive snap-hiss and Vader ducked just as a crimson blade cut through the air where his head had been. He dropped to the ground and rolled away from his mystery opponent, rising smoothly to his feet to face his enemy. It wasn't quite what he'd expected.

First of all, he was a she. A bitch instead of a bastard. And she was a rather disturbing looking alien of some kind. A pale, bald, slender humanoid with white, seemingly sightless eyes.

In one hand she held the ignited crimson saber. In the other she held a second, still unlit. He noticed the distinctive curved hilts and immediately thought of Dooku. He shuddered and lit his own sapphire blade before she charged him again.

"Hmm, you had better make this worth my time." She hissed in a cold dry voice.

"Took the words right out of my mouth!" Vader snapped, shifting into an aggressive stance.

She narrowed her pale eyes in disdain and lit the second saber. Now with two scarlet lightsabers at the ready, she raised them into a complicated stance. She held her position for a minute before deciding it was time to attack.

Vader barely had time to blink as he angled his lightsaber to block the volley of blows that she threw at him. For every strike he blocked, there was always a second one to worry about. Trapping one of her sabers wasn't enough, there was always the other one to contend with.

Horrid clashing sounds shattered the peace of the surrounding jungle as lightsabers crashed and grated against one another. Flashes of blue and red light splashed over their faces and surroundings. And around them the Force was just as active and swirling as their saber blades. Dark and Light spinning and mixing into an ugly twilight gray.

She pressed him back and back. Each strike drew her blade closer to something vital, forcing him to retreat. He was kept on the defensive for the simple fact that he didn't have time to try and slip in an offensive jab of his own.

At the shadowy, vine-choked entrance to the nearest of the abandoned temples she came close to disarming him. Desperate, Vader was forced to lurch backwards and put some distance between them to try and regain his balance. Instead of chasing him down, she stayed where she was, studying him like a scientist studied a particularly interesting insect.

"We have a lot in common, you and I." She murmured after a long pause.

"Yeah?" Vader panted, his tone derisive.

"We have both suffered at the hands of the Jedi." She told him.

Vader was struck speechless for several minutes. "I don't know about you," he said at last, "but I haven't."

"Oh? And what would you call your abandonment on Tatooine? You must know that Master Jinn could've arranged for you to come along with him." She hissed.

He gaped at her in shock. He hadn't thought that Dooku was aware of his past interaction with the Jedi Master. But either he knew or he had found out and then told this crazy bitch about it. A slow boil of fury sparked in his gut.

"You know nothing!" Vader hissed, raising his saber aggressively. _Qui-Gon was busy with the Naboo crisis, he didn't have time to deal with me too._

Her reply was to press the attack again. Now she drove him into the dark temple. The only illumination came from her two red sabers and his one blue.

She forced him backwards down the dark hallways and into a vast central chamber lit by an enormous skylight. Against the far end of the chamber was a raised platform and stairs with a crumbling stone altar. If there were any other decorations in the room, they were hidden in the shadows that the square of sunlight couldn't dispel.

With more room to maneuver Vader could put some distance between himself and his attacker. They circled each other, darting in and out of the light. The vast echoing chamber resonated with the jarring crackle and buzzing hum of a lightsaber duel. The humid atmosphere, only slightly cooler in temperature inside than it had been outside, was thick with tension.

The longer they fought, the more that Vader began to see the patterns of her attack. Her combat style was very fluid, two sabers always in complimentary motion. But he was beginning to see ways to overcome it, gaps he could exploit to his own advantage. Before he could do that though, she drew back again.

"Do you know what this place is?" She inquired without a hint of curiosity.

"No," Vader growled.

"This is one of the Massassi Temples, built to worship the ancient Sith Lord, Exar Kun." She told him.

"Lovely," Vader grumbled sarcastically.

"If the Jedi had not persecuted him, he might've formed an empire more powerful, stable, and just than the corrupt, crumbling Republic." She declared coldly.

Vader wasn't sure what part of her delusional statement he should attack first. "Well pardon me for being glad that the Jedi 'persecuted' Lord Kun and his fledgling empire into oblivion."

Her pale eyes narrowed. "Show some respect for your ancestor."

"What ancestor? I'm not related to that miserable bastard." Vader snorted. "And even if I was, why should I respect a murderer, corruptor, and conqueror like a Sith Lord?"

"Why do you continually deny your destiny?" She countered frostily.

"Why do you keep talking?" Vader shot back. "You're just making yourself look like an idiot."

She peeled her lips back in a silent snarl, revealing slightly pointed teeth, and returned to attack mode. Vader smirked and gave himself a point. He'd pissed her off. It was a nice change from _her_ pissing _him_ off.

Of course by sparking her rage he just gave her more power and aggression. The thick warm air grew thicker and cold as her fury fueled the Dark Side. The stained mossy stones of the temple seemed to reflect and magnify the Darkness, probably as a result of the place being a former Sith temple. But Vader held his own.

Instead of her forcing him to move, he led her by purposely giving ground through the maze-like dark halls of the ruined temple. The narrow corridors restricted his movements and strikes, but they limited hers too. Now if only he knew the layout of this place, he could really take control here.

Somehow, Vader found his way out onto a balcony ledge thing halfway up the roughly pyramidal temple structure. Outside once more, he vaguely noticed that the white wispy clouds had thickened into a solid threatening gray mass. If the lightsaber hadn't made so much noise he might've heard some ominous rumbles of distant thunder.

Suddenly spying an opening too good to pass up, Vader stabbed through the gap and his sapphire blade scored a burn just below her left shoulder. She hissed in pain and fury, lashing out at him with redoubled rage. Before he could say 'Holy Bantha spit!' she had him pinned against the wall of the temple, her crossed blades slowly pressing his own saber back towards his face.

"Since you reject your destiny, I'll just kill you and take your place!" She hissed.

"Go ahead. Take my place. But you won't kill me." He sneered.

"You will die," she snarled venomously. "And when you die, I'll take Master Kenobi and have a little…fun…with him." Her cold eyes, which had reminded him of a predatory fish or reptile, dead and remorseless, now lit up with unholy glee. "I've really missed him, you know. Playing with him was a _great_ stress reliever."

At first, Vader stared at her blankly, uncomprehending. But then ever so slowly, what she'd just said sunk in. And then a tremendous clap of thunder exploded overhead at almost the exact same moment that he snapped.

"**_You!_**" He roared, the sound more like an animal scream than a word spoken by an intelligent being.

A Dark haze settled in his mind. He didn't think about what he did. He simply did it. It was like watching a holo-drama. An out-of-body experience some might call it.

He shoved her backwards several feet, almost knocking her over the ledge and down the sloped stair-like side of the temple. She somehow managed to recover and move away from the edge, just in time for him to lunge at her. He hacked at her with reckless abandon, pressing her back into the temple.

The only reason she survived his onslaught as long as she did was the fact that she fought with two lightsabers instead of one. So when he had her back in the enormous central chamber, now dark due to the gathering storm, he chased her up the stairs to the raised back portion and pinned her to the side of the stone altar. He caught her left wrist and twisted it until it aggravated her lightsaber burn and caused her to drop her weapon.

Without missing a beat, he caught the dropped hilt before it even had a chance to automatically shut off. He swung his blue blade hard, locking it with her remaining weapon so that she was defenseless, trapped. And then he drove the stolen weapon through the center of her chest, pressing the hilt deep into her breastbone, the red blade exploding out from between her shoulder blades, severing her spinal cord.

The expression on her face was of dazed surprise. It was like she hadn't even thought this situation was a possibility. She was a fool to underestimate her opponent so severely.

All he felt was hatred. Pure, deep hatred for this pathetic creature he'd just skewered. He twisted the curved lightsaber hilt slightly, hoping to cause her as much pain as possible in her last few moments.

Vader leaned in close to her face and snarled. "You'll never touch my Master ever again." He ground out slowly, spitting out each word like poison. "Now die bitch!" He jerked back and his blue Jedi blade swung around and decapitated her.

As the lifeless corpse slumped to the floor, he calmly deactivated his weapon and clipped it to his belt. He then gathered up her weapons to turn in, partly as proof that he'd killed her and partly to ensure that there weren't lightsabers floating around on the black market and falling into wrong hands. And then he took the time to stare at her, which in hindsight he probably shouldn't have done.

He never really looked at the people he'd killed before. Thankfully Dooku hadn't held onto him long enough for him to have to kill anyone. But, somewhat ironically, he'd killed for the Jedi. Then the war had come and most of what he 'killed' were droids, things that weren't technically alive to begin with. Now, though, he looked at her.

Her pale eyes were starting to film over, staring out into space at things only the dead see. A few feet away, the rest of her body lay completely slack, lifeless, collapsed into a position that a living being would've found deeply uncomfortable. The corpse was completely still. Thunder boomed overhead, echoing down through the skylight.

He'd done it. He'd avenged his Master. Obi-Wan would never have to worry about…whatever-her-name-was…ever again. And no one else would ever have to fear her either.

But after he'd stared at her carcass for several minutes, the sense of satisfaction he felt began to fade. As that oozed out of him, the Dark haze went with it, bringing him a rush of clarity. And then just exactly what he'd done hit him square between the eyes.

He had just killed her. That wasn't particularly shocking. He'd killed people before. But he'd never really wanted to. And he hadn't ever _enjoyed_ killing someone. Nor had he ever lost his head so spectacularly while killing a person.

Vader spun on his heel and strode out of that cavernous chamber at a speed that approached a run. The cold thick air, tainted with Darkness, was smothering. He couldn't breathe and he felt decidedly sick. By the time he reached the ground-level archway through which he'd entered the ruined Massassi Temple, he had to stop and retch.

When his stomach stopped rebelling, which was several minutes after anything had come up, he staggered outside into the rain that had just started pouring. His Starfighter wasn't all that far away, but by the time he reached it he was soaked through and his hair was plastered to his head. As he fell down into his seat Artoo squealed in concern.

"Hey Artoo," Vader greeted hoarsely. "Take us back to the _Valiant_ please." He requested shakily, for once not feeling up to piloting the fighter.

SURE THING. Artoo warbled, sounding worried.

"Thanks," Vader muttered.

_What sort of sick freak am I?_ He wondered as Artoo steered the Eta-2 through the turbulent, stormy atmosphere. His stomach cramped as another wave of revulsion and self-loathing swept through him. _What's wrong with me?_

* * *

Obi-Wan had to use all of his willpower to keep from pacing the bridge of the Republic Star Destroyer, _Valiant_, like a caged Nexu. The reason behind his desire to pace, of course, had to do with his errant 'Padawan', Vader. This time the young man had really gone too far. 

This was the third time Vader had gone AWOL, the lovely military acronym for 'absent without leave', since his 'induction' into the Jedi Order. The first time was just before Ansion, the second was when he abandoned his post on Varonat, and now he had just run off in the middle of a battle. The first two times Obi-Wan was willing to forgive, but this most recent offense he was having a hard time with.

What possessed him to run off in the middle of a space battle after that strange fighter? Obi-Wan had called to him repeatedly, warning him off the pursuit. It was more important that he stay in-system and help destroy the droid fighters and orbital defenses. That one lone fighter was of no consequence. There were no Separatist fleets close enough for it to call in and drive the Republic forces away. And that was something about that fighter that he hadn't liked. Something had felt wrong about it.

But Vader had completely ignored him and given chase, even into hyperspace. Obi-Wan had wanted to go after him, however he simply couldn't. He was in charge of the fighter squadrons during the assault, it was his responsibility to oversee things. He couldn't run off after his wayward Padawan. He had to stay.

_The instant he gets back, I'm going to kill him._ Obi-Wan swore. He had no doubts that Vader would return. The only question was when.

"General Kenobi?" A clone asked, coming to stand at Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Yes Commander Cody?" Obi-Wan replied.

"The hanger crew has just reported that Commander Vader has returned." The clone commander reported.

"Thank you Commander," Obi-Wan responded shortly, not quite managing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "You have the bridge while I'm away."

"Yes sir," Cody nodded. "I have the bridge."

Obi-Wan stiffly nodded his thanks in reply and hurried off the Star Destroyer's bridge. He tried to hold on to his calm Jedi Master façade and move at the proper slow pace. He really tried. But his irritation sabotaged his efforts.

When he reached the hanger entrance, he had to stop for a moment and do a quick breathing exercise to purge himself of the un-Jedi-like desire to strangle his impulsive Padawan. After properly composing himself, he opened the hatch and strode into the _Valiant_'s hanger bay. And then he was immediately struck by the chaotic, negative emotions roiling off his wayward apprentice.

It took a moment for him to divorce himself from the churning emotional storm so that he could think clearly. There was revulsion and self-loathing mixed together with fear. It seemed that strangulation or even the threat of it wasn't needed in this case.

Now deeply concerned instead of irritated, Obi-Wan strode over to Vader's modified Jedi Starfighter. The younger man was perched on one of the flat red-and-white wings, hugging his knees to his chest and staring blankly out into space. He was as white as the bleached sheets used in hospitals and his left hand was trembling as it clutched the opposite sleeve. In short, Vader looked the worst Obi-Wan could ever remember seeing him.

He quietly approached the Starfighter, noticing as he got closer that Vader was rather damp, like he'd stood out in the rain or gone swimming. So he must've landed, but where and why? Obi-Wan drew on his vast reserves of patience, Force knew he'd need a lot of it to deal with this, and prepared to carefully interview his charge.

"You're back," he stated neutrally.

Vader started at the sound of his voice. "Huh?" He croaked.

"Where did you end up?" Obi-Wan asked instead of repeating himself.

"Some place called Yavin." Vader mumbled, visibly shuddering.

"Was it raining there?" Obi-Wan wondered, running a hand over one of Vader's sleeves to see just how soggy it was. "Come on, let's get you into some dry clothes."

"Yeah, it was raining when I left." Vader muttered, sliding off the edge of the wing and tamely allowing Obi-Wan to tow him by the wrist back to their tiny little cabin.

Space is a very valuable thing aboard a spacecraft, and war ships are no exception. Weapons have first priority, followed by shields, hanger space, and life support systems. And only after all that comes crew quarters. So to squeeze all the crew required to keep the ship running, the rooms for them had to be small and shared.

The room that they had been granted was little bigger than a medium-sized closet. There were two bunks set into the wall on one side, and a small storage place and desk with a data terminal on the other with a narrow pathway in-between the two sides. And in the back there was a tiny refresher unit attached to it that was barely big enough to fit a narrow shower stall, a miniature sink, and a toilet.

The average citizen might find such living conditions cramped and difficult. But the clones that crewed the ship didn't mind. And neither did the Jedi who commanded them.

Obi-Wan sat Vader down on the lower bunk, the one he'd claimed for himself, and turned to dig through the storage bin for some of his Padawan's spare clothes. "So, what exactly possessed you to chase that fighter down after I called you back repeatedly?"

"I was worked up and she insulted me." Vader mumbled so quietly Obi-Wan wasn't sure he'd heard him right.

"She?" Obi-Wan blinked, peering over his shoulder at his young friend.

"Yeah," Vader shrugged out of his damp cloak and removed two metallic items from his belt. "She," he confirmed, revealing the things to be two identical curved lightsaber hilts.

Upon seeing them, several questions of his were answered before he even got around to asking them. But it also sparked a whole new list of questions. Foremost of which was what happened between Vader and Asajj Ventress.

He had tried to keep them apart. Whenever his Padawan had asked about the being responsible for his imprisonment and torture after Jabiim, he had managed to avoid answering. But it seemed the Force had other ideas and they'd come into contact with each other anyway. And it had apparently gone very badly.

Obi-Wan took the two captured lightsabers from Vader and passed him some fresh clothes. "Did she hurt you?"

Vader started to peel off his damp clothes. "No."

The Jedi Master thought about pressing further, but refrained for the moment. Instead he set Ventress' sabers down on the desk and leaned against the wall, waiting. Vader just busied himself with getting into the dry clothes. Though after he had finished, his left hand kept trembling.

"She insulted me a lot, kept spewing abunch of nonsense too." Vader spoke at last. "And then she threatened to kill me…and take you back as…as her personal toy…" He trailed off, staring intently at the floor. "I killed her for that."

While that sounded bad all by itself, Obi-Wan sensed there was more to it. Vader wouldn't be this upset if this was all it was. He waited to hear the rest, hoping he didn't have to ask and force things.

"I was so angry…and afraid…of what she would do. I showed her no mercy. I wanted her to suffer. I hated her. And I skewered her on her own blade." Vader's voice grew numb, distant, like he was far away. Then the numbness was crushed under anguish. "What's wrong with me?"

"There is nothing wrong with you." Obi-Wan assured him. "Now if you killed her the way you said you did and felt no remorse or regret, I would be worried."

"But…" Vader looked up from the floor, his expression haunted and tight with guilt.

"Even Jedi make mistakes and have regrets." Obi-Wan abandoned the wall in favor of sitting beside Vader on the lower bunk. "All we can do is learn from our experiences and strive to do better in the future."

Vader slumped limply against Obi-Wan's side. "I…I suppose." He murmured.

"So in the future, don't go chasing after strange enemy fighters." Obi-Wan scolded, almost jokingly, hoping to cheer him up a little.

"Yes Master," Vader mumbled, cringing in shame.

Obi-Wan reached up and gave Vader's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Why don't you visit the mess hall and get something to eat?" He suggested.

Vader somehow managed to blanch even paler. "No thanks, I'm not hungry." He shuddered.

"Well try and rest then. I have to get back to the bridge, but my shift will be over soon." Obi-Wan sighed, reluctantly standing.

The Padawan wilted, looking miserable. "Alright."

"I should be back in a few hours. Try to stay out of trouble until then." Obi-Wan warned, again rather teasingly, trying to get the young man to relax.

"Yes Master," Vader muttered, totally missing the joke. Again.

Obi-Wan gave his shoulder one last pat and reluctantly exited the cabin. He didn't want to leave, but he had no choice in the matter, duty called. Thankfully, though, he wouldn't be gone long.

Seeing how distraught he was, Obi-Wan was seriously doubting how well he would handle the next step of the campaign. Now that the orbital defenses had been disabled, it was time to prepare to make landings. It would be time to try and take control of Muunilinst itself. And now it appeared that Vader wouldn't be able to participate in the early stages of it.

_Well, hopefully he'll learn from this and not run off in the middle of a battle again._ Obi-Wan sighed as he approached the bridge. _And maybe now he sees why the Jedi Order does not believe in revenge._


	46. 45: Home Front

**Chapter 45  
**_Home Front_

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining in the clear blue sky and it was warm for the season and latitude. It was hard to believe that somewhere beyond that blue sky there was a war going on.

Padmé briefly glanced up at the beautiful blue sky as she exited the massive Senate building and sighed. Ahead of her sat her waiting speeder, piloted by the loyal Captain Typho, ready to take her back to her apartment. Putting the tense, stressful Senate session firmly behind her, she climbed into her dark blue speeder and nodded to her one-eyed Captain to take her home.

The cool wind that rushed through the open speeder cockpit tugged at her complex hairstyle and refreshed her. Typho expertly wove through the chaotic Coruscanti traffic, leaving the stadium-like Senate building behind and heading towards the cluster of spires that was the Senatorial apartment block. But even when she reached her penthouse, she still had work to do.

There were reports to read and write, speeches to prepare, and perhaps even meetings with fellow Senators to schedule. For her work never ended. There was always something that needed doing. But as exhausting and time-consuming as it was, she couldn't imagine doing anything else. She'd given all her young life to serving her people and their interests, and she had no regrets.

Soon Typho parked the speeder in one of her building's parking lots and led her inside, cautiously glancing around, alert to any threats to her safety. Padmé waved farewell to him as she stepped into the lift that would bring her up to her penthouse and left him to his post in the mid-level lobby. In a few minutes, the lift-car stopped and opened into her Coruscant residence.

Sabé and Moteé were waiting for her. Moteé's lips thinned at the sight of her Lady's hair, slightly disheveled from the wind, but she made no comment on it. Together she and Sabé led Padmé into the bedroom and helped her out of her elaborate Senatorial gown and into something a little more casual and comfortable. Padmé's wind-blown hair was also remedied, erasing Moteé's thin-lipped frown.

With that task completed, Moteé left for the kitchen to prepare some caf and refreshments. Sabé remained with Padmé and the two of them prepared to dive into the stack of data disks that contained various reports and messages gathered during her business in the Senate building. A sudden chime heralding the arrival of a guest in the lift interrupted their efforts though, and Sabé went to see who it was.

"Oh hello Jar Jar!" Padmé heard Sabé exclaim in surprise and she hurried to greet her old Gungan friend as well.

"Heya-lo Sabé!" The goofy Gungan representative greeted. "Heya-lo Padmé!" Jar Jar cried when Padmé came into view. "Wassa splashin'?"

"Oh nothing terribly exciting," Padmé smiled as she gave her colleague a quick hug. "I was just going to start some boring paperwork."

"Ooh ouch, ouch," Jar Jar cringed sympathetically.

"Yes, one of the many necessary evils of the job." Padmé sighed. "Come and sit down." She invited.

Jar Jar gave a wide goofy grin and cheerfully ambled after Padmé into the common room. The gangly Gungan made himself comfortable on the couch while Sabé went to the kitchen to help Moteé finish up the snacks and drinks she'd been preparing. Padmé settled down across from her friend and struck up a conversation with him about some recent legislation she'd heard about being debated back home on Naboo.

Some might underestimate the Gungan, Jar Jar Binks, for his goofy appearance, strange manner of speaking, and inborn clumsiness. And when he was younger his naïve gullibility would've made their assumptions about him mostly correct. But his years of service to Naboo and the Galactic Republic had educated him, helped him calm down and mature. He was still vulnerable to some who knew how to take advantage of him, like Palpatine had in getting him to originally propose granting him his first emergency powers, but he was always learning and he would not make that mistake again.

Padmé hoped that someday soon Jar Jar, or some other Gungan like him, would rise to the rank of Senator in the Galactic Senate instead of just hanging around as a lowly Representative, a position with little influence compared to that of Senator. It was rare, but possible, for a single star system to have multiple Senators due to the fact that they contained multiple intelligent species. One example was the world of Mon Calamari, a watery world that supported the amphibious Mon Calamari and the squid-like Quarren. Each species had their own Senator and their own vote in the Galactic Senate. And that was what she wanted for Naboo, the Naboo and the Gungans with their own Senator and their own vote.

Sabé adored teasing her about that dream, among other things. "_Bringing the Naboo and the Gungans together isn't enough for you."_ She would say, sometimes despairingly. "_Bringing the Gungans into a joint active government isn't enough either. No, you have to do this too!"_

But sometimes Sabé's lighthearted teasing would turn serious, worried. "_If you don't slow down, your life will be gone before you know it."_ She would warn. "_At this rate you'll be an old woman before you find yourself a man." _Or, "_If you don't stop and take the time for it, you'll never have children of your own."_

She would wave Sabé off and smile. She still had plenty of time for those things. Twenty-five wasn't terribly old. There were many years ahead of her for a husband and children. Right now, Naboo as a whole needed her, and she would not let her home-world down. She would serve to the best of her ability until she was no longer needed, and then she could take time for herself with a clear conscience and happy heart.

"Padmé?" Sabé called, yanking Padmé out of her thoughts.

She was embarrassed to realize that she'd drifted off into her own little world while Jar Jar rambled on about some conversation he'd had with the obese Gungan leader, Boss Nass. "Yes?" Padmé replied.

"Senator Organa called." Sabé answered. "He'll be here in a few minutes to discuss some business about the Refugee Relocation Committee."

"Oh," Padmé sighed, glancing at the wall chrono and noting just how late it was. "I'm glad that you stopped by Jar Jar," Padmé began reluctantly. "But–"

"Messa understand," Jar Jar nodded. "Messa glad to speaka to yousa today. Bubbly luck." He grinned, giving her a little bow before swaggering to the lift.

"Good luck to you too." Padmé smiled, waving a quick farewell.

It was funny, in public Jar Jar could act just like a refined, dignified politician, but in private he was his silly old self. When the Senate was in session, he would walk slowly and gracefully and give speeches in a clear voice, almost devoid of his odd Gungan speech patterns. But in his off time he would amble around, swinging his long arms and legsabout casually, and his Gungan dialect would be back in full force. That annoyed some people, but Padmé didn't mind. She didn't want her friend to change too much, it was comforting and right for some aspects of him to stay the same.

Not five minutes after Jar Jar departed, Bail Organa, Senator and Viceroy of Alderaan, arrived. He was impeccably groomed as always, his dark hair neatly combed, his beard carefully trimmed, and his gray and pale blue suit and cape were simple, but of fine quality befitting the royalty that he was by virtue of his blood. But despite his hereditary position, he had earned his Senatorial seat through a proper democratic election. And in Padmé's opinion, he was a wonderful choice for the position.

"Good afternoon Padmé," Bail smiled, gratefully accepting a steaming cup of caf from Moteé.

"Good afternoon Bail," Padmé replied with her own smile. "Where should we begin?"

* * *

Sabé unconsciously fingered the smooth gray stone pendant she wore around her neck in a thoughtless nervous gesture. Padmé and Bail were still in the common room discussing policy. Moteé was attending to them, leaving Sabé to her own devices for the moment. And when she was left on her own with nothing specific to do, she tended to think.

At the moment she was mulling over the horrible thing that was called war. It was certainly the most evil activity ever dreamed up by intelligent life. And this hideous Clone War was no exception.

Millions died each month. Millions more were displaced, uprooted from their homes and forced to flee for their very lives. And still there was no end in sight.

And war, and the tensions that had preceded it, was what enslaved her friend to her position. If there was no more war, Padmé could relax, take a vacation, move on with her life. Without war, her Lady's sense of duty would not be tugged at, calling her to ever more service, ever more self-sacrifice. The end of war would set Padmé free.

While she loved and admired her old friend, she quietly feared for her. Her strong sense of duty was commendable, but Sabé viewed it as much as a curse as it was a blessing. Not since after Geonosis had Padmé been back on Naboo and not since she'd been forced into hiding had she visited with her family.

Before the war, Padmé had only had one week between the end of her second, and final, term as Queen of Naboo and when she accepted Queen Jamilla's request to take on the position of Senator of Naboo. Just one week to enjoy with her friends and family without the worries of being Queen or Senator. That simply wasn't enough.

And before that, her two terms as Queen ate up the second half of her childhood and the beginning of her adulthood. After the taxing, traumatic crisis with the Trade Federation Blockade she filled her time with rebuilding Naboo and working with the Gungans. Sabé could never remember a time in that period where she wasn't working on something.

_I swear,_ Sabé sighed, _it's like she's allergic to taking a vacation._ Every time the idea was brought up Padmé would brush it aside. "_Later,"_ she would say, "_some other time,"_ or, "_when things calm down a bit."_ Always she would bury the thought of time off under such excuses until it was forgotten.

_She'll burn out if this keeps up._ Sabé squeezed the smooth teardrop-shaped stone pendant so tightly in her hand that it left a faint reddish mark in her palm. It was a worry that had been growing in her mind ever since she had come to Coruscant to take Dormé's place. But she had yet to voice her concern to her friend for fear that Padmé would just make some vague promise of relaxing without any real intention of keeping it.

Sabé jumped slightly when Padmé's apartment comm buzzed for attention. Dropping her necklace from her hand and hurried to answer it. She pressed the accept key and the small hazy blue image of a man came into focus. Sabé swallowed a curse with an outwardly friendly smile.

"Senator Vorski, how may I assist you?" Sabé greeted politely.

"_Good afternoon Miss Maybine, is Senator Amidala available?"_ The man, Senator Vorski, asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, Senator Amidala is in a conference at the moment." Sabé apologized. "May I take a message for you?"

"_I see,"_ a brief look of disappoint flickered over the tiny blue hologram's face. "_If you could have her call me when she is free I would much appreciate it."_

"I will," Sabé promised, carefully hiding her reluctance.

"_Thank you,"_ Senator Vorski smiled. "_Farewell."_

Sabé breathed a sigh of relief when the comm connection was cut and the holographic image of Senator Vorski faded. Despite the polite, well-groomed, respected Senator image, Sabé personally detested him. She found his interest in her Lady inappropriate and a bit disturbing.

Senator Josef Vorski of the Voshi System looked to be a handsome dark-haired man in his mid-thirties. But he wasn't. His actual age was something nearly twice that. His vast bank account and wide influence allowed him to have costly cosmetic procedures that made him appear much younger and healthier than he was.

Vorski used his artificial good looks and impressive wealth to woo a long line of much younger lovers. He'd been tied to all sorts of women, from scantily clad Twi'lek dancer girls, to glamorous holo-film stars, and even to other female Senators. And now it seemed he'd set his sights on Padmé Amidala Naberrie as his next conquest.

_It's disgusting,_ Sabé shuddered as she resumed her previous seat. _He's old enough to be her father! If only I could give that pervert a piece of my mind…_

But she couldn't. She didn't dare. The Voshi System, while not a close neighbor of Naboo, was a major source of important pharmaceuticals. If Sabé told him off like she wished to, or if Padmé was too harsh in refusing his advances, Vorski could very well use his influence to interrupt the flow of medicines and chemicals to Naboo out of spite. So Padmé's hands were tied, and Sabé's mouth might as well have been sewn shut.

Frustrated, Sabé returned to playing with her necklace. The simple pendant was a gift, and heirloom of sorts, from her paternal grandmother. It, along with a few old holos and flat pictures and some hazy memories were all she had left of that particular relative.

Her relationship with her family, by her own admission, wasn't the best. While she'd always gotten along great with her father and his relatives, her mother and her relatives were another story. Part of the reason Sabé had jumped at the chance to go to Coruscant and help Padmé was to escape the maternal branch of her family.

Naboo's Human population, in general, was not terribly concerned with bloodlines, nice families, and good breeding. Love and compatibility are more important to most Nabooans when looking for someone to marry. But for a small percentage of Nabooans, mostly those who could be classified as 'old money,' _did_ care about those things. And unfortunately Sabé's mother was one of those rare people.

For as long as she could remember, her mother had tried to groom her for a subtly arranged marriage. Always she had been coached in how to behave, how to play the stupid social games that the rich and influential played. And Sabé was sure that every night her mother had dreamed of her beautiful elaborate wedding to some rich man from a well-respected family.

Sabé never wanted any part of that. She made that perfectly clear when she applied to the prestigious Theed Academy, and later when she signed up to become a Handmaiden. Her father was always supportive of her choices. But her mother was furious.

All her mother's dreams of marrying her daughter off and gaining a foothold in some rich old family were dashed. What man would want to marry a girl who had brains behind her good looks, the confidence to speak her mind, and the strength and skills to kick his butt? Not many, and certainly not the any of the kind that her mother had wanted her to marry.

Her father on the other hand had been proud beyond words at her achievements. His oldest daughter, a star student, and then a respected Handmaiden of the famous Queen Amidala. Sabé thought she could just have gone on to be an ordinary girl and her beloved father would still tell anyone who would listen just how wonderful his daughter was.

With such differing opinions on her, Sabé was amazed at how her parents managed to stick together. How they'd ever fallen in love in the first place was a mystery in itself to Sabé. But she supposed she was glad that they had, she was one of the results of their affection for each other after all.

And she was grateful that no matter what happened, or what she chose to do with herself, that at least one of her parents would always be happy. Now all she had to do was figure out what she was going to choose next. Now she had to try and decide on what the newest chapter of her life would be.

It wasn't that she was unhappy with her life as it was at the moment. She was quite content to help her oldest and dearest friend with her work, more than happy to keep her safe. But she had no plans on being a Handmaiden for her entire life.

_I suppose my next goal in life ought to be straightening out my love life, _Sabé mused. _Or getting a love life in the first place,_ she sighed upon further reflection. _A hopeless, pointless crush on a Jedi Master doesn't really count as having a love life now does it?_

So what if he was handsome in his own dignified way? So what if he was infinitely patient, kind, and compassionate? So what if he had a smile that, even now that it was hidden under that beard of his, had the unnerving ability to derail any trains of thought she might've been experiencing at the time. Really, so what?

He was a Jedi. A Jedi _Master_. She had a much higher chance of landing a date with Vader than with Obi-Wan!

Not that she would ever ask the Jedi Padawan out on a date in the first place. He was more of a silly little brother to her than a love interest. Vader reminded her of a young cousin of hers from her father's side of the family. Sometimes he could be sulky and bratty, sometimes he could be goofy and hilarious, but there was always an undercurrent of sweetness to him. Mysterious circumstances aside, Vader was just like that.

Shaking her head Sabé twirled the necklace around her index finger. _Maybe I should play match-maker for Padmé instead, _she thought. '_Cause I think I'm a lost cause…_

* * *

Late that night, Padmé sat at her little mirror and brushed out her brown wavy hair. She was nearly ready for bed, now dressed in a simple violet nightgown. Sabé and Moteé had been dismissed for the night and now she was alone with only her thoughts and worries for company.

With a sigh, she set down her brush and wandered over to her bedroom window. The blinds were down, but not closed, allowing narrow bands of light to cast a striped series of shadows on her far wall. She peered out through one of the cracks at the endless streams of air-speeders and city lights and sighed again.

After Bail had completed the business he came to discuss with her, he'd lingered for a while. He enjoyed some of her caf and relaxed enough to share some of his personal thoughts and worries with her. And now she found herself sharing many of those same concerns.

War was changing the Republic, and not for the better. The Supreme Chancellor seemed to be gathering more and more power. He acted reluctant when the motions were proposed and voted on, but he never once refused to accept what he was given nor did he ever try to kill the motions to grant more power before they were voted on.

Then there were the mysterious events that led up to the outbreak of war and the strange circumstances that swirled around everything. There were simply too many holes for Bail or herself to feel comfortable, and odd, unnerving coincidences. Bail even admitted to believing that there could be some conspiracy or two involved in the whole mess.

And the worst part was she couldn't really share her growing fears and suspicions with anyone or risk being labeled a Separatist sympathizer or even a Separatist herself. Never mind that that wasn't true at all, others would only see a dissenter, someone who was disloyal to the Republic. For her own good, she had to keep quiet and wait until something solid turned up, some evidence that confirmed some of her concerns.

Chewing her lip worriedly, her mind shifted to other worries as her hand found the Japor pendant she only took off when she climbed into bed or into the shower. Not all of her dear friends were safe and sound here on Coruscant. Some of them were light-years away, risking their lives for a crumbling Republic that was almost as worrisome to her as the recently created Confederation of Independent Systems.

_Let them be safe,_ she prayed to whatever power was listening. _Let them come home safe and sound again… Please let them come back to me._


	47. 46: Mission to Malaar

**Chapter 46  
**_Mission_ _to Malaar_

Vader jolted up out of his upper bunk so fast he cracked his forehead of the ceiling of his little bed niche. Hissing a long litany of curses through clenched teeth he clutched his head and struggled to regain his bearings. It took him several minutes to clear the fog of sleep and the shreds of nightmare from his mind and remember that he was in his cabin aboard the Star Destroyer _Valiant_.

_Ugh, I hate nightmares, _he grumbled, laying back down on his bed and staring at his little section of ceiling. _I'm so tired of dreaming about severed heads and glaring dead eyes… I'd much rather dream about Padmé!_

Moments later he flushed darkly as he realized just what it was that he'd thought. _Ack! Bad Anakin, bad! Do **not** think about her like that!_

Of course, despite his protests, his mind decided to slide down into a particularly nasty gutter as it pursued the thought of the beautiful Nabooan Senator. The more he tried to stop thinking about her, the more he ended up thinking about her. Until he was forced to act.

He rolled off his bed, dropping gracefully to the floor, and stalked into the tiny refresher. Vader quickly shed his sleep-clothes and hopped into the miniscule sonic shower. As he cleaned up, he wished desperately for a real water shower.

_Oh what I wouldn't give for some nice ice cold water…_

* * *

A few hours later Vader was on the _Valiant_'s bridge and bored. Obi-Wan was down on Muunilinst busy commanding the Republic forces. He was stuck up here because Obi-Wan didn't feel he was in a good state of mind to be in the middle of a battle. 

While Vader had to agree with Obi-Wan, he wasn't ready to be in another fight, it didn't mean that he was happy about it. It was boring up here! For three days he'd been up here with nothing to do and only the clones for company. If something didn't happen soon, he swore he was going to lose his mind!

"Commander, emergency transmission." One of the clones manning the communications section called out.

Vader blinked in surprise, but quickly collected himself as he strode over to see what was going on. It was really strange for people to be calling him 'Commander'. "Where is the transmission coming from?" He asked curiously.

"From Atzatz, sir." The clone replied, naming a planet several systems away near the border of two different sectors.

"Atzatz," Vader frowned in surprise. He'd expected the transmission to come form somewhere closer by, like the surface of Muunilinst. "Put it on screen."

"Yes sir," the clone nodded obediently.

A nearby screen lit up and an image of a haggard-looking Jedi Knight came into focus. He was a Togruta, just like Council Member Shaak Ti, and he was clearly strained. His brightly-color skin was pale and dull and his striped _lekku_ constantly quivered in barely controlled distress.

"_Padawan, may I speak with your Master?"_ The weary Togruta asked.

"I'm sorry, he's unavailable at the moment." Vader apologized. "Can I take a message for him?"

The Knight's black eyes dulled. "_What's he doing?"_

"He's leading the assault on Muunilinst's capital." Vader replied.

The male Togruta ran a hand over his red-and-white face, his shoulders slumping in despair. "_Oh blast it all…"_

"Um…sir?" Vader blinked. "What's wrong?"

"_Everyone is this sector is busy," _the Togruta Knight sighed. "_A few hours ago I received a distress signal from some Jedi reinforcements headed to Aargonar. They were shot down by Separatist mercenaries in the Malaar System. My forces are all tied up here so I've been trying to find someone else to rescue them, but…"_

Vader bit his lip and thoughtfully tugged on his braid. "We might be able to help. Not all our forces have been committed yet. Forward me your information and I'll get in contact with my Master as soon as I can."

"_Alright, thank you."_ The Togruta nodded gratefully. "_May the Force be with you."_

"And may the Force be with you." Vader replied just before the connection was cut.

He then took the disk a clone handed him containing the forwarded information and requested that he be alerted the instant General Kenobi became available. Vader left the bridge for his cabin, curious to find out about this little crisis that seemed to have flared up. And maybe by the time Obi-Wan was back in communications with the _Valiant_, he'd have a plan of action ready.

* * *

Vader chewed on his metallic right thumb as he studied the information displayed on the screen of this data terminal. One window contained all the information that was on the disk, which wasn't all that much. The other window was what had come up when he ran a search on Malaar. And down in the lower corner was a little chronometer, yelling at him that it had been almost three hours since he'd first heard about the problem he was now considering.

_Damn it Obi-Wan, where the hell are you?_ Vader fumed. _What's taking you so long? Muunilinst is a planet full of bankers, how tough are they?_

Whatever the reason was, Obi-Wan had yet to call back up to the _Valiant _and report his status. That left Vader sitting here with nothing to do but think. And the more he thought, the more he wanted to get up and act.

Malaar wasn't all that far from where he was now. At top military speed he could reach the planet with a shuttle and a squad of clone troops for back-up in only a couple of hours. There were more than enough clones waiting in reserve and there were several hyper-capable shuttles still in space, hanging around with nothing to do.

But to do any of that, he needed Obi-Wan's approval. And he couldn't get Obi-Wan's approval until the man had enough time to call up to the _Valiant_ and report the status of his part of the invasion. This left Vader…frustrated.

_I could without asking, _he thought. Immediately he tried to kill the idea. He was just in trouble for his stunt with the creepy evil bitch. He really didn't need to get into trouble again so soon. But that thought refused to leave him alone. It nagged at him, wormed through his brain, and hummed in his ears. He couldn't forget it.

He sighed, _aw hell…_ Fishing a piece of paper and a writing stylus out of the desk. Scribbling a quick, barely legible, note out for Obi-Wan, he set out to make the necessary arrangements.

_Malaar isn't all that far away. If I get lucky, it won't take too long to find the lost Jedi and pick them up. Then it's a quick hop back here where I can redirect them wherever they need to go. Obi-Wan may not even miss me…_

But just to make sure that Obi-Wan didn't miss him, he blocked off his end of the bond. That way his Master wouldn't sense anything amiss, even if all hell was breaking loose around him. General Kenobi was busy right now, he didn't need his Commander's escapades to distract him when victory was drawing near.

* * *

**Malaar: **_A tropical world located on the border between the Mid Rim and the Outer Rim. It is devoid of intelligent native species and there are no known colonies of alien species present. Malaar possesses three main types of habitat: tropical rainforest, swamp, and ocean. There are no major exports from Malaar. The jungles contain many dangerous and aggressive predators, the most dangerous of which is the venomous Rasp Wyrm. Visitors are also cautioned against the wide range of indigenous diseases native to Malaar's jungles and swamps…_

Vader sighed and glanced up from his datapad as he reviewed the information on Malaar again. _What a lovely little world they managed to crash-land on,_ he groaned. _I wonder, am I all caught up on my vaccinations?_

"We'll be dropping out of hyperspace in a minute Commander." The clone pilot informed him.

"Good," Vader nodded, setting the datapad aside. He wandered into the shuttle cockpit and slipped into the only empty chair. "As soon as we transition back into normal space lock onto the fallen shuttle's homing beacon."

"Yes sir," the pilot replied, pushing the lever that turned the twisty blue mists back into white pin dots of stars. "Scanning now."

Vader leaned back in his seat and waited. _Let's see. We have to find one Master, three Knights, and two Padawans… _He stared out the viewport at the slowing growing green orb of Malaar. _Piece of cake. …So long as we avoid the Trandoshan mercenaries, that is._

Trandoshans weren't warriors so much as they were hunters. They evolved on the second habitable planet in the Kashyyyk System, the home system of Kashyyyk the Wookiee planet. And ever since they developed space travel, the reptilian Trandoshans locked themselves in conflict with their nearest neighbors, the hairy Wookiees. Their religion came to center around the hunting and skinning of Wookiees. The older and more experienced the Wookiee they killed, or the rarer the pelt color, the greater the score given to the hunter when the bloody fur is placed at the altar before the stature of their deity, the Scorekeeper.

With the outbreak of the war, the Trandoshans, many of whom made a good living as bounty hunters, sided with the Separatists and their Confederation of Independent Systems. The Wookiees remained loyal to the Galactic Republic, furthering the conflict between the two species. Soon, Vader felt, the tensions between the two would really erupt, leading to an invasion of Kashyyyk or Trandosha, the Trandoshan home-world.

"We have something sir." The co-pilot muttered, staring intently at his plot. "Two signals. The homing beacon from the Republic shuttle and a ship transponder reading as…_The Bloody Claw_."

_Sounds like a Trandoshan ship to me._ "Bring up a map and put both locations on screen." Vader ordered.

"Yes sir."

A very green, almost featureless map came up on the main screen. Then two dots appeared, one blue friendly and one red hostile. They were rather close together. Vader started mentally reciting his vocabulary of profanity.

"Here," Vader indicated an area where the jungle was less dense, near a lake. "Let us off there." He scanned the map. "And here," he tapped a small but mostly clear plateau several miles away. "When you get the signal go there to pick us up."

"Yes sir," the clone pilot nodded, locking the appropriate coordinates into the computer. "We'll make our landing in a few minutes."

"Great," Vader nodded and left the cockpit.

Back in the passenger compartment sat his back-up. One full squad of clones, twelve members of the battle-hardened 501st battalion, left back as reserve for the Muunilinst campaign. One of them was a trained field medic, with a pack full of medical supplies, just in case. The other eleven were well-versed in moving quickly without being seen, exactly what he needed. Now if only their armor wasn't so…white.

"Well boys, we're almost there." Vader sighed, taking a seat in the middle of them. "It's going to be a miserable swampy jungle out there, filled with lots of nasty critters and viruses, but hopefully we won't have to stay too long. Our targets are three Humans, a Twi'lek, a Zabrak, and an Ithorian. There are an unknown number of Trandoshans out there that we want to avoid. We'll be landing by a lake and our exit vector is the plateau. Any questions?"

"No sir," twelve identical voiced chorused.

_It's so weird when they do that._ "Good." Vader smiled with slightly forced cheerfulness.

The shuttle shuddered around them, signaling the entry into the atmosphere. Natural gravity started to interfere with the artificial gravity of the shuttle, putting some stress on their bodies, but not nearly enough to be dangerous. Soon, after several minutes of swerving and dipping, the shuttle locked into hover and the doors opened.

Vader took a deep breath and launched himself out of the shuttle and down onto the muddy lake shore. A few heartbeats later his squad of clones joined him there. The shuttle hovered overhead for a moment or two before lifting off again, taking a high orbit above Malaar's atmosphere while the pilots waited for the 'pick-up' signal.

"Let's go," Vader muttered, darting into the jungle, leaving the exposed lake shore behind. When he felt he'd gone far enough to find sufficient cover, he stopped to crouch by a fallen tree. The clone squad moved with surprising stealth despite their constricting white armor and the crappy field of vision their stupid helmets gave them.

Taking a deep breath, Vader immersed himself in the vibrant currents of the Force in search of the crash-landed Jedi. It wasn't easy. There was simply so much life around him, the trees, the vines, the flowers, the insects, the birds, the reptiles, the mammals, it all got in his way. Even a bright shiny presence of a powerful Jedi could get swallowed up in all the other lights of living things.

But he kept looking, probing, seeking them. Who knew, maybe _they_ would find _him_. He wouldn't stop looking until he found them or he was interrupted. Then…

"Ah hah," he muttered. Eyes sliding half-open, he rose up and struck off in a direction. The clones didn't make any comment. They had grown used to their Jedi commanders' odd behaviors and habits. All they worried about was keeping him safe while he tracked his Jedi colleagues down like a Corellian Bloodhound.

Vader skittered through the thick undergrowth and over fallen tree trunks and thick ropy vines, his blue eyes clouded over, seeing something that wasn't really there. Time ceased to hold significant meaning for him. He was half in the real world, half out of it. All the while his focus was solely on following the directions of the Force.

For miles he hiked like this. His squad circling around him as he went, making sure he didn't miss anything that was dangerous close by while his mind was miles away. Already they had shoed away several large reptiles that were probably venomous that he could've stepped on.

Then he abruptly snapped out of his trance and jogged ahead to the top of a nearby rise. He paused at the top and looked down into a valley of sorts that had a shallow creek running right through the middle of it. On the banks of the little creek slumped the limps forms of several Jedi.

Instead of the six that Vader had hoped to find, there were only four of them there. The Ithorian and Twi'lek were no where in sight, leaving a Zabrak and three Humans. Two of the Humans were clearly the two Padawans the information had listed. The Zabrak had been classified as a Knight, and the third Human was the Master. Unfortunately there hadn't been time for them to send off any personal information, like their names, before they'd had to flee their crashed vessel to escape the Trandoshans.

Worried, Vader skidded down the shallow slope to check their condition, broadcasting his presence through the Force so thathe and his clone squad wouldn't take the other Jedi by surprise. They didn't so much as twitch as he approached them. They were simplytoo tired and hurt from the crash and being hunted by bloodthirsty Trandoshans to really do much at the moment.

"Um, hey." Vader greeted uncertainly, not sure how he was supposed to start a conversation with such wiped-out people.

The young Padawan, a dark-haired boy of about fifteen, sat up immediately and stared at him in confusion. "Huh?" He croaked.

The Zabrak Knight was a little more on top of things. "Rescue, I assume?" He rumbled in a deep voice that only added to his imposing, horned features.

"You are correct," Vader bowed in greeting.

Now the Master, a middle-aged Human male, picked up his head to observe their Padawan savior. Vader stared back at him for a moment before he suddenly recognized the man. And then it was a battle to not slide into a panic.

_Argh, it-it's Master Halcyon!_ His brain screamed. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…_

Master Nejaa Halcyon was a native of the Corellian branch of the Jedi Temple. He'd been with Obi-Wan when they tracked him down after his panicked flight from the hospital in Coronet. His few memories of the man centered around the fact that Master Halcyon hadn't liked him at all.

_Calm down Anakin, calm down._ He whispered to himself. _It's been a long time. Even if he does remember me, I look different now than I did then. My presence in the Force is different. Just don't ask me my name, don't ask for a name…_ Vader prayed.

"Where is your Master?" Master Halcyon inquired.

"He's busy." Vader shrugged.

"I see," Master Halcyon replied in a tone that said a great deal more than that. What Vader heard was: _oh great, a rescue mission led by an idiot Padawan. We're all going to die._

"Well, let's get walking, we'll be picked up on the plateau." Vader shrugged again, glancing upward through the tiny gaps in the dense jungle canopy in an effort to get his bearings.

"The plateau?" The young Padawan all but whined.

The other, older Padawan remained silent. In fact, the girl had yet to even react to his presence. Vader could tell she wasn't dead but the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her vacant hazel eyes hinted at what was ailing her.

"Yes, the plateau. It's a good distance away from where the Trandoshan ship landed and it's clear enough for a quick easy landing and take-off." Vader explained.

Master Halcyon seemed to cheer up at bit at hearing this. Perhaps the 'idiot Padawan' wasn't such an idiot after all. Vader struggled not to feel insulted at this.

_I'm twenty years old, _Vader grumbled. _Almost twenty-one, actually,_ he realized when he recalled the current date. _Yeah, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of days, I know what I'm doing!_

"Are there any injuries?" The clone medic asked politely.

"Just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing serious." The Zabrak replied. "Not physically anyway." He added, glancing over at the limp Padawan, confirming Vader's suspicion.

"Take turns carrying her," Vader sighed to the nearest clone. Carrying her would be a heck of a lot quicker and easier than trying to coax her to walk the way on her own. He oriented himself in a direction that felt right. "Let's get going. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave this steam bath."

One of the soldiers scooped up the near catatonic Padawan while a few others helped the stranded Jedi to their feet. Then they began hiking towards the plateau and escape. And while they marched, they remained wary for the unseen Trandoshan hunters.

It was likely that if the Twi'lek Jedi and the Ithorian Jedi hadn't died in the crash, that the Trandoshans had taken them. The Ithorian's oddly shaped head and the Twi'lek's _lekku_ had to be interesting prizes for the reptilian hunters. And if Vader had to guess, the Zabrak Knight and his crown of short curved horns were next on the red-eyed lizards' list.

_You want your trophies lizard boys?_ Vader growled to the as-yet-unseen Trandoshans. _Well, you'll have to catch us first!_

* * *

The sun was starting to set now. In another hour it would be night. It was best if they left before then. The Trandoshan mercenaries would have the advantage then, for their eyes could see into the infrared part of the spectrum, allowing them to see better in the dark than in the bright of day. And then there the native wildlife on top of that.

Hours of hard hiking had brought them to the base of the plateau. Another hour brought them to the gentlest sloping side of the flat-topped mound of earth and rock. And now they had to start climbing.

The Trandoshans were still back there somewhere. Vader could feel them, though he couldn't pinpoint their exact locations. They had probably guessed what the Jedi's goal was at this point. And now they were waiting for their prey to start walking their way up the bare rocky slope so they could take clear shots at them.

_Damned if we do, damned if we don't._ Vader sighed, staring at the bare yellowish rocky slope ahead. _If we stay here for the night, they'll get us in the dark. If we climb now, they'll shot us like…like…what was that term Sabé mentioned? …Fish in a barrel._

Around him, he could feel how tired his own group was. The clones, as goodof condition as they were in, were reaching the end of their endurance. They were good for this last leg of the journey, but not for any further. The stranded Jedi were in much worse shape. They'd already been running all day yesterday from the hunters and lost two of their number. Vader was surprised that they were still standing.

"We should make a run for it, we can't make it another night here." Master Halcyon declared, coming over to stand beside Vader.

"Right," Vader agreed reluctantly. By some miracle of the Force, none of the stranded Jedi had asked for his name. Hopefully the Force would stay on his side and he could get them to safety without them finding out his identity. "We'll go in a few minutes."

Master Halcyon merely nodded in response and headed over to his Jedi companions to get them ready. Vader rolled his shoulders in circles to ease the tension that had built up in them and studied the faint trail they would take one last time. Then he went over to his troops and gave them their last instructions.

"Okay boys, we're almost done, just one short leg left to go." He told them, clasping his hands behind his back. "Break down into three-man groups, one for each survivor. Each group makes sure that their Jedi makes it to the top in as good a condition as possible. I'll bring up the rear and see if I can't draw some enemy fire away from the rest of you. Medic, you still have the signal beacon?" He asked.

"Yes sir," the clone medic replied, briefly removing the signal beacon from his pack for his inspection.

"Good, once you and all the other Jedi to the top, turn it on. If I don't catch up in fifteen minutes, I won't be coming back so leave without me." Vader ordered. Upon sensing their shock, he explained himself. "Our mission is to rescue them, and if sacrifice is necessary to do that, then we will make those sacrifices. If I fall, the mission must continue and they must be brought to safety. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" All twelve of them chorused with the same voice.

"Good," Vader nodded, "now get to it!"

The clones got up and did as he told them, breaking into threes and herding the four survivors closer to the base of the plateau. At Vader's nod, they started to hike up the steep barely-there trail. The half-catatonic female Padawan went first, carried by her protectors. The other Padawan came next, his Master the Zabrak following just behind. And then came Master Halcyon. Vader brought up the rear, several paces behind everyone else.

It was a tricky climb. There were sections of the path that were little more than loose gravelly stone. If you stepped on that wrong, you could lose your footing and fall. The whole way was steep, though not as steep as the other sides of the plateau. And the setting sun glared in from the west, half-blinding them on one side.

Vader didn't like this one bit, but there was no other choice. The thick muggy air made breathing difficult which in turn made climbing harder. But he kept going. He had to. The hunters were still back there, waiting.

It felt like the hike took forever. It felt like the setting sun was moving faster than they were. But eventually the lip of the plateau's flat top began to appear nearer.

And then the first little group made it up and over. After depositing their human cargo a safe distance from the edge, those clones returned to help their comrades reach the summit. Vader came to a stop and waited, watching as the second Padawan and then the Zabrak Knight made it too. Then just as Master Halcyon was making the flat summit, Vader started to climb again.

An icy chill of warning stabbed through his spine. A distant high-pitched whistle-scream rapidly rose in volume. Vader lunged forward, struggling to put on a burst of speed. It wasn't enough.

The ground exploded under his feet. There was heat all around him. Sharp stabbing shrapnel whizzed around him, slicing through cloth and flesh. And then he was falling.

He tried to stop, but gravity wouldn't let him. Hard, sharp rocks cut and bruised him as he tumbled end over end. He tucked his head, legs, and left arm in to try and protect them. His right arm he used to try and slow down. It was half metal; it could take the tearing forces better than mere flesh and bone.

Golden-hued metal scraped against dull yellow sandstone. Horrid screeching scrapes assaulted his ears. Pain lanced up through his arm and shoulder, flaring in his bruised back. He regretted sticking out his hand; it felt like it was being torn off at the joint where metal and flesh met.

And still he fell. Down and down, end over end, he fell. He fell all the way down into the jungle as the sun set and darkness of night descended…

* * *

Obi-Wan scrubbed a weary hand over his face as his shuttle rose from the surface of Muunilinst back towards the Star Destroyer _Valiant._ The battle to take Muunilinst's capital had been a success. Costly and difficult, but a success. Well, _mostly_ a success, the bounty hunter, Durge, had managed to spirit away the Banking Clan's chairman, San Hill. But other than that, all the goals they'd had for taking the capital had been met.

Now, with the occupied capital being watched over by hundreds of clones and a few other Jedi, he was returning to the _Valiant_ to check on his Padawan. Hopefully Vader would recover himself quickly. Trying to take over a city without his Padawan at his side had been difficult. He really didn't want to have to do it again.

As soon as the shuttle touched down in the hanger bay, Obi-Wan hopped off and looked around for Vader. He frowned when he didn't see the young man waiting there. Considering how bored Vader had claimed to be the last time they'd spoken, Obi-Wan had expected to be greeted by one of the young man's infamous scowls.

Disappointed, but not particularly alarmed, he set off in search of his younger friend. He checked the bridge, the mess hall, the engine room, the gym, the hanger again, and their cabin. Coming up empty everywhere, he tried an alternate form of locating Vader. Specifically, he examined the bond to see just where the man was hiding. He didn't find anything. And _that_ alarmed him.

Taking a second look around the cabin in search of clues, he spied a scrap of paper lying on his bed. Obi-Wan sat down on the edge of his bed and examined the paper, finding a barely legible note from Vader scrawled on it. As he slowly deciphered it, his heart sank.

According to the note, Vader had undertaken an emergency rescue mission to a planet called Malaar. He didn't expect to be gone long. But if for some reason he didn't return, there was a disk hidden in his sock drawer that he wanted Obi-Wan to have.

Obi-Wan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Not good. Not good at all. But…at least this time he told me where he went…_


	48. 47: Search and Rescue

**Chapter 47  
**_Search and Rescue_

Nejaa Halcyon, Jedi Master of the Corellian branch of the Jedi Temple and descendant of a long line of Jedi, beginning with the famous Keiran Halcyon, was unhappy. He sat in the mess hall of the Star Destroyer, _Valiant_, orbiting the occupied Separatist world of Muunilinst. There was a tray of plain, almost tasteless food in front of him, but he barely picked at it. He simply had too much on his mind.

Three days had passed since the mysterious Padawan and the clone troops he'd commanded had come to Malaar and saved him and his three companions. Three days since the young man had been shot off the side of an anonymous plateau by Trandoshan mercenaries. Three days since the clone troops had forced the four of them off-planet, leaving the Padawan behind. And in those three days, nothing had been done about it.

This bothered him immensely. And what was worse, he didn't even know the brave young man's name. Also he had yet to meet the Padawan's Master or the leader of this campaign here over Muunilinst. A string of minor crisis down on the planet's surface kept Nejaa from finding out anything.

Now he was alone in his frustrations. Just yesterday Knight Mallor the Zabrak and his Padawan Zevik had shipped out to their original destination, Aargonar. The shell-shocked Orphaned Padawan Jessca had been sent back to Coruscant two days before. And with Knight Vondo the Ithorian and Twi'lek Knight Jun'ah dead, he was the only one of the original group left here.

Spearing some unidentifiable cube of animal protein on his fork, Nejaa studied it with disgusted disinterest. Even if he was hungry he wouldn't want to eat this. Yet the scores of clones around him dug in like it was a gourmet meal. Nejaa shuddered and scraped the 'meat' cube off his fork back onto the tray.

_Ugh, even Mina on her worst day can do better than this…_

"Master Halcyon?" A vaguely familiar voice asked curiously.

Nejaa glanced up to see another Jedi who appeared familiar to him, but he couldn't put a name to the face immediately. "Yes?"

"I thought you were to leave with Knight Mallor and his Padawan to Aargonar." The other Jedi stated, confused.

"The need for Jedi on Aargonar is not urgent, Knight Mallor and Padawan Zevik will be sufficient for now." Nejaa shrugged. "I wished to remain here for a while longer."

"Oh," the other man blinked, taking a seat across from Nejaa at the table. "So why do you wish to remain?"

"Well I have some questions that most people around here seem too busy to answer." Nejaa grumped, poking a limp pile of steamed vegetables with his fork.

"Ah, my apologies." The other Jedi cringed. "Muunilinst has kept me busy, unfortunately."

Nejaa studied the other Jedi for a moment, scrabbling for a name. And then it hit him. "Obi-Wan," he blinked, startled, "is that you?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan frowned slightly, arching an eyebrow. "You didn't recognize me?"

"Well, partly. I just couldn't put your name with your face." Nejaa winced apologetically. "How have you been since ditching all of us crazy Corellians?" He asked curiously.

"Rather well for the most part," Obi-Wan replied, shifting in his seat to get a little more comfortable. "Until this lovely war flared up." He added with dry sarcasm.

"Yes, that's messed up a lot of things." Nejaa sighed. _It certainly killed my honeymoon._

"So how have you been?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Good, very good," Nejaa grinned, almost sheepishly. "I ended up getting married just a year before the outbreak of hostilities."

Obi-Wan's jaw almost hit the tabletop. "Really?" He almost choked.

"Yes," Nejaa chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair.

Master Kenobi's reaction was just as he suspected it would be. Corellian Jedi tended to interpret the Code a little more loosely than the rest; they didn't mind bending the rules. And that was why most of the small percentage of Jedi who had married were Corellian.

"Oh," Obi-Wan muttered, running a hand over his well-trimmed beard as he tried to collect himself. "Congratulations, then." He managed after a few minutes.

"Thanks," Nejaa half-grinned. "Last time I made it home, Mina told me that she's expecting." He added, hoping to get the two major bombshells dropped and out of the way as soon as possible.

"Oh my…" Obi-Wan gaped, struggling to wrap his little Jedi mind around this shocking new piece of information. "Uh…congratulations…again."

"Thank you," Nejaa smiled, patiently sitting back and waiting for his friend to recover.

"That's…that's really…something." Obi-Wan mumbled.

"Yes. Yes it is." Nejaa sighed, resting his chin in his hand. "So what have you been up to? Any girlfriends?"

"Huh?" Obi-Wan sputtered. "No!"

"Sorry, just checking." Nejaa chuckled. "But really, what have you been up to?" He asked, sobering. "Why transfer back to Coruscant? I thought you came to Corellia to get away from there."

"I did, but the Council found a new assignment for me that I couldn't refuse." Obi-Wan shrugged, turning uncomfortable. "That's pretty much kept me busy."

"And what assignment would that be?" Nejaa asked curiously.

Obi-Wan now really looked uncomfortable. "Are you actually eating any of that?" He inquired, gesturing at the picked-over food.

"Not really, no." Nejaa sighed after looking over the rather unappetizing tray of…food.

"Well then let's continue this somewhere more private." Obi-Wan suggested, standing up.

"What, is your little assignment 'top secret'?" Nejaa joked, rising to follow his friend.

"Something like that." Obi-Wan muttered, leaving the mess hall behind.

Nejaa blinked, startled, as he trailed in Obi-Wan's wake. _I was joking. But…is he serious?_

* * *

Obi-Wan was not looking forward to this conversation. Not at all. He remembered Nejaa's dislike and deep distrust of Vader very well. And he could barely image how he was going to take this news… 

"Okay," Nejaa sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Obi-Wan's bunk after he led him into the cabin he shared with his 'Padawan'. "We're 'more private', can you tell me now?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded, sitting down in the desk chair. "Of course. You recall that lovely runaway that I escorted to Coruscant and a date with the Jedi Council?"

Nejaa's expression darkened considerably. "Yes I do. What happened with him anyway?"

"Well the Council decided to shelter him in exchange for his information and services." Obi-Wan replied.

"What?" Nejaa blinked uneasily. "_What_ did they do?"

"They let him stay among the Jedi, disguised as a Jedi." Obi-Wan clarified.

"_What?_" Nejaa hissed, alarmed.

"My assignment was to help him hide and guard him." Obi-Wan continued.

"But…but…_what?_" Nejaa sputtered in disbelief.

"And so far, while some are suspicious, none have discovered his true nature." Obi-Wan finished calmly.

"_No one?_" Nejaa choked, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"No one," Obi-Wan confirmed, "not even you."

"_Not even_…not even me?" Nejaa frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know that Padawan who boldly came to your rescue on Malaar?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing wearily at the back of his neck.

"Yes, what does he have to do with anything?" Nejaa scowled.

"That was Vader." Obi-Wan answered.

The progression of expressions on Nejaa's face would've been comical had the situation not been so grave. First there was complete confusion that slowly melted into understanding and then deep utter shock. The Corellian Master was rendered totally speechless.

"Now, you understand that you can't tell anyone about this?" Obi-Wan pointed out. Nejaa nodded mutely. "Great. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find him and drag him back here." He sighed and rose to leave.

"You're going to Malaar to retrieve him?" Nejaa asked softly, his voice still numb with the shock of it all.

"Yes, I can't very well leave him there to die." Obi-Wan responded.

"Well…I might as well come with you." Nejaa groaned, standing up slowly. "Malaar is not a planet you want to traverse alone."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You want to help me?"

"Yes," Nejaa nodded stiffly, "I do."

"Then let's go." Obi-Wan turned and strode from his cabin to the hanger bay and the shuttle that would take him to Malaar. Nejaa Halcyon followed him.

* * *

The air was thick, wet, hot, and stifling. Even in shallow dark caves it was almost impossible to breathe. That left Vader just that much more miserable than he already was. 

He lay curled up in a tiny hole in the ground that he had so optimistically termed a cave. There was nearly an inch of water coating the cave floor and it was filled with wriggling insect larvae. The adult forms of those larvae buzzed and hummed all around him. Some of them, the bloodsuckers, tasted him as their first meal.

Every breath was agony. He didn't think any of his ribs were broken, but a good many of them were definitely bruised. His right side was worse than his left. Either it hit the rocky slope more than his left, or it took the brunt of the explosion that knocked him loose. Or maybe it was both.

His right hand, the mechanical prosthetic, was ruined. The pinky finger was completely missing as was a section of the middle finger. The remaining fingers were twisted, scraped, and frozen into a useless clawed club. The entire arm was broken. But not broken enough for it not to send endless pain signals to his brain. The faintest jar to it made it hard for him not to scream in agony. And it didn't help that at the point where metal fused with flesh there was a ring of dried blood and angry yellow-black bruises.

His head wasn't much better. His face was cut up, especially the right side. That entire side of his face was a mass of overlapping bruises and dried blood. According to his left hand, there was a deep gash running vertically along his right temple, dangerously close to his right eye which was swollen shut. He had no idea if the eye itself was damaged.

And his body overall felt like it had been run over by a rampaging herd of Banthas. Everything hurt. He was hot. He was tired. He was thirsty. He was hungry. He just wanted to curl up and sleep for a week after eating a Nerf burger and drinking a gallon of Jawa juice. But he didn't dare.

The Trandoshans were still out there since there was still a Jedi to hunt. He'd seen them. He even managed to kill a few of them. And his continued survival made them want to kill him all the more. The score their Scorekeeper would grant them grew with each day he kept on living.

There was a rustling sound near the entrance of his 'cave'. Vader drew deeper into the shadows, pressing his back into the rough stone of the cave wall, cradling his lightsaber to his chest with his left hand. His blue eyes, glazed with fever, stared wildly out into the dense curtains of greenery.

_C'mon!_ He snarled. _Come get me you scaly bastards! Just try it!_

In response, a small furry creature peeped out from under some ferns. It chittered, sniffed around a bit, and then scuttled off. There was no more rustling in the leaves.

Vader slumped down a bit, his eyelids drooping dangerously. The Force was so loud here it hurt his head. Or maybe that was the headache tied to the fact that he was starting to get sick. He had a million little cuts everywhere for germs to get in and a million and a half bug bites. He would be shocked if something wasn't infected on him somewhere.

A cramping spasm stabbed in his gut. A mixture of nausea, hunger, and thirst made him curl up and gag a little. While he waited for it to pass he was reminded of the fact that he couldn't hold out much longer.

_Please Master… Please… Please…_

* * *

Obi-Wan was immediately struck by the thick, hot atmosphere the instant the shuttle doors opened and the ramp lowered. All around were leaves of varying shades of green that severely limited visibility, even reducing the amount of sunlight that made it through the canopy to a dim greenish glow. And then came the insects, dense clouds of them flocked towards the new creatures who had visited their realm.

"What a lovely planet," Obi-Wan coughed, waving some pesky gnat-like insects away from his face as he strode down the ramp to the soggy ground below.

"Yes I know." Nejaa grumbled. "There seem to be more bugs than I remember though."

"Wonderful." Obi-Wan sighed.

He wandered several yards away from the parked shuttle, leaned against a tree trunk, and immersed himself in the Force. The living things around him became blinding as he opened himself to the omnipotent energy field that was the Force. But he carefully began to narrow his focus, seeking one spark in particular amongst the endless multitudes of glows.

Normally the bond he'd formed with the young man would help him. But Vader kept his end sealed tightly. Since it wasn't broken, only blocked, Obi-Wan knew that he was still alive, but that was all. Feeling a little desperate, he probed again at the block in the flow of the bond.

_(Where are you?)_ He sent, praying to be heard. _(Can you hear me? I'm here. You can take down this block now.)_

Silence was his only answer. Silence and the vaguest sense of dull throbbing pain. Just as he'd feared, the young man was hurt. But how badly?

_(I'm coming for you,)_ he promised. _(Hold on just a little while longer.)_

Now he turned his attention to seeking guidance from the Force. If he couldn't find Vader directly, he'd try the indirect route. Changing his focus from the Unifying aspect of the Force, he now shifted to his old Master's preferred aspect, the Living Force. It wasn't his strong point, the Unifying Force suited him better, but he'd make do with it.

A vague pathway of sorts appeared to him. A pull drew him a certain way. And he followed it.

* * *

Nejaa uneasily followed Obi-Wan as the other Master was immersed in the Force, almost in a trance. After they'd left the clearing the shuttle had taken off as instructed and was now orbiting somewhere high overhead. There were no clone troops this time, no need to give the lingering Trandoshans any more targets. So it was just him and Obi-Wan trekking through the dense, insect-infested jungle that hid dangerous Trandoshans and the mysterious Vader.

He didn't like any of this. He might be a Corellian, infamous for skirting around the rules, but anything to do with the Dark Side he didn't stand for. Therefore he disliked and distrusted Vader immensely.

However, it seemed things were much more complicated now. Vader had come to save him and his companions. He'd risked his life and ended up paying the price. That didn't fit with his memory of the boy he'd meet in Coronet or his knowledge of disciples of the Dark Side.

To clear things up for himself, Nejaa had decided to come along and meet Vader again. He wanted to get to know this young man a bit better, try to figure him out. And he hoped to form a more accurate opinion of the mysterious Darksider, see just what the Council had seen in him to offer him what they had.

Obi-Wan led the two of them into a small clearing that was just large enough for a beam of sunlight to pierce the dense jungle canopy. He paused there and Nejaa looked around, alert for any threats. Instead of finding any threats, he found a body sprawled out under some bushes.

A tan scaly Trandoshan lay there. Its red eyes were filmed over and its mouth hung open, slack in death. Because of the hot humid climate, the corpse, though only a day or two old, was badly decomposed.

Nejaa grimaced in disgust as he studied the dead mercenary. This definitely wasn't the work of some local predator. Not unless some animal had developed the ability to wield a lightsaber, or cause damage exactly like one.

"Something's off," Obi-Wan remarked, coming to stand at Nejaa's shoulder. It seemed he'd lost his grip on his trance for the moment.

"Oh?" Nejaa prompted curiously.

"These strikes are too wild, sloppy." Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "It's almost like…like he fought with his left hand."

"Maybe he did." Nejaa shrugged. "I'd be surprised if he didn't break something with the fall he took."

Obi-Wan stood there, staring at the dead Trandoshan and stroking his beard while he thought, before moving on. Nejaa again followed him as he sensed Obi-Wan sink back into the currents of the Force. As Obi-Wan focused his attention elsewhere, opening himself to potential attack, Nejaa prepared to defend his companion if necessary.

Together they forayed deeper into the steamy jungle in search of the still-missing Vader. For hours they hiked over fallen trees and through thick clumps of vegetation. And aside from another dead, rotting Trandoshan, they found nothing…

* * *

Vader swayed unsteadily as he crouched in the back of his cave. His left hand clutched the hilt of his saber so tightly that his knuckles bleached white. His eyes were focused on the entranceway of his soaked, insect-filled sanctuary. This time he was certain, beyond a fevered shadow of a doubt, that he was being hunted by the enemy.

Despite the pounding throb in his skull he forced himself to concentrate. If he was going to survive this next encounter, he needed the Force's assistance. And he had it, so long as he could keep his fevered thoughts in order.

Some plants swayed ever so slightly as the hunter cautiously crept closer. The Trandoshan didn't know if anything was hiding here, Vader sensed, but better safe than sorry. Vader wished the rotten reptile would hurry up. His legs couldn't hold this position for much longer.

_Gotta wait for it… Wait for it Anakin,_ he coached himself. _Just a little bit more… Wait for it… Wait for it… And…**now!**_

Vader lunged awkwardly out of his tiny hiding space and lit his lightsaber. His opponent reared back, red eyes wide, hissing in surprise. Baring his teeth grimly, Vader clumsily swung his weapon around and struck the young Trandoshan in the shoulder. It howled in agony, revealing a mouthful of sharp curved teeth, but it didn't drop its weapon. Before it could recover, Vader thrust his blade into its chest, quickly ending its suffering.

As the Trandoshan slumped to the ground with a rasping gurgle, Vader extinguished his blade and fled the scene. If he stayed the Trandoshan's companions would find him and exact revenge. That would be decidedly be bad for his already failing health.

Limping along at a rapidly slowing pace, Vader scrambled through Malaar's dense hot jungle. He had no particular direction in mind, just anywhere away from where he'd been. And anywhere away from the reptilian hunters that obsessively pursued him.

_This is the worst Life Day ever! I hate being twenty-one! Master…Master where are you?_

* * *

Obi-Wan carefully pushed through a particularly thick tangle of vines to find what he presumed to be the base of the plateau his Padawan had been shot off of. It wasn't terribly high as plateaus went, or overly steep, but it was enough of both to be a challenge. He certainly wouldn't want to take a spill down it.

Near the summit, he spied a black scorch mark. A shiver rippled down his spine as he realized what it was. That was the point where Vader had been blast free from his perch by a rocket-propelled shrapnel grenade.

Shaking his head to clear it of rising morbid thoughts, he carefully picked his way over the rocky base of plateau, seeking any clues. At first all he found were a few lizards sunning themselves on some boulders. But then, hidden in the shade of one of those boulders, he found something.

It was covered in yellowish dust and full of rips and tears, but it was still recognizable. Obi-Wan carefully lifted the ruined dark cloak up in the light to better examine the damage. It was hard to keep from losing hope as he counted the holes in it.

"This is not terribly encouraging," he sighed softly.

"Well what do you make of this?" Nejaa asked quietly.

Obi-Wan turned to see him standing a few yards up the slope. Nejaa was turning some tiny object over in his hands. Obi-Wan cautiously picked his way up to get a better look. It was small, metallic, shiny, golden in color…

"I do believe that," Obi-Wan squinted, "that is his pinky finger." …_Oh Star's End._

"_Who's_ finger?" Nejaa choked, almost dropping the metallic digit.

"You missed Vader's new right hand?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"Yeah," Nejaa blinked. He closed his eyes and, with the aid of the Force, he reviewed his memories to see if he'd seen the right hand. "What happened to his old one?" He asked for a moment.

"A duel on Geonosis did not go our way and Count Dooku exacted some revenge on him." Obi-Wan replied.

Nejaa gaped in disbelief. "What–"

Several angry red laser blasts exploded from the trees aimed at their heads and chests. Nejaa dropped the metal finger and the both of them managed to draw and light their sabers just in time to deflect the killing energy beams. With those blasts rendered harmless, they focused on the direction they came from, ready and waiting for more.

No more came. Instead a trio of Trandoshans boldly slunk out of the jungle and into plain view. Without the plant life to shield them, their brownish scales and green jumpsuits granted them no camouflage. Each one cradled a long-range blaster rifle in their claws, but they made no moves to raise and fire them. They knew the Jedi would not attack them unless they started firing at them. The trio hissed and snarled at each other for a few minutes in their native language before the senior one amongst them spoke up in hissing Basic.

"What bringsss you here Jedi?" He snarled.

"We're just here to collect something we left behind last time." Obi-Wan replied casually. His blade, as well as Nejaa's, remained lit, though pointed at the ground, indicating his willingness to talk peacefully.

"You wassste your time," the Trandoshan sneered. "He isss oursss now." He then reached into his pocket with one taloned hand and pulled out a frayed length of plaited dirty-blonde hair. "Sssee?"

If Obi-Wan hadn't had the bond and felt that it was still intact, he would've been distressed by this sight. As it was, it only worried him a little more than he already was. _First a finger and now part of his hair…are we going to be following a trail of his body parts to find him?_

"That's hardly proof," Obi-Wan shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

The Trandoshan's lips twitched, briefly flashing his snout full of pointy teeth. "You don't care that your preciousss Padawan hasss died?"

"That hair tells me nothing," Obi-Wan replied. "It could be anyone's."

The mercenary snarled a curse and roughly shoved the severed braid back into his pocket. "You call me a liar?"

"No, I haven't called you anything." Obi-Wan corrected.

"You insssult me!" The Trandoshan snapped.

"I did not," Obi-Wan frowned. "I merely pointed out that a tiny braid of Human hair is not sufficient proof of death."

"Really? It isss my underssstanding that no Jedi Padawan would be caught dead without one." He spat venomously.

"Accidents happen," Obi-Wan stated, "hair grows back, you know."

"You insssult my intelligence!" The Trandoshan roared.

"No I didn't." Obi-Wan protested.

The Trandoshan only snarled back, as did his two companions. All three of them cursed him out in their native tongue and Obi-Wan and Nejaa cringed at the harsh sounds. They couldn't attack though, the mercenaries kept the barrels of their rifles pointed at the ground.

A blaster bolt whizzed between the two Jedi from…behind them? Nejaa spun around to deal with the new threat while Obi-Wan continued to face the trio of Trandoshans, his saber now raised in a more aggressive posture. Now the Trandoshans' bold move to reveal themselves made sense. They were a decoy force to draw the Jedi's attention away from the sniper that aimed to kill them.

Angry that their sniper had missed so widely, the three Trandoshans in front of them raised their rifles to shoot. Before they could attack, Obi-Wan was on them. In a few short seconds two of the rifles were ruined, their barrels dramatically shortened, one Trandoshan was lacking a forearm and another was lacking his head. The two survivors, one maimed and the other sufficiently terrified, stumbled back into the safety of the sheltering jungle. The headless corpse remained where it fell.

That threat well taken care of, Obi-Wan turned to assist Nejaa with the sniper. The thing was, no more shots came. And something felt odd about that direction.

"Something's up over there." Obi-Wan frowned.

"Hmm," Nejaa grunted, his eyes fixed on the exact spot he thought the blaster bolt had come from.

Without another word, the two of them slowly advanced on the position, their sabers still lit. The suspected sniper's nest was a small ridge half a mile away from where they'd stood. It was covered in thick brush and trees with limp, low-hanging branches, a perfect place to hide.

Sensing no immediate danger, no malicious mind of a cornered enemy, they carefully moved the cover aside when they reached the spot and found out the answers to several questions. The reason for the missed shot, the lack of other shots, and the lack of danger was that the sniper was dead. The Trandoshan lay slumped on it's side with a lightsaber burn right through it's back and into its chest.

"Well now we know why he missed us." Obi-Wan remarked, scratching at his beard.

Nejaa's response to that was to let out an ear-piercing whistle.

"Ow," Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing at his ringing ears. "A little warning next time, please."

"Sorry," Nejaa muttered, scanning their surroundings. "But he can't have gone too far."

Obi-Wan was about to ask who he was talking about, but then he answered his own question. This Trandoshan had been killed with a lightsaber. There was only one other being on this planet besides them that wielded a lightsaber. And that was exactly who they were here to find.

_(Padawan!)_ He called, frustrated to find that the block was still in place. _(Take this block down and talk to me! Hey!)_

Obi-Wan was about to try and hail Vader again when he felt the barrier waver and then slowly dissolve. Pain was the first thing he sensed through the freed bond. Pain, then all manner of misery, followed by faint, desperate, wavering hope.

_(M-Master?)_ Vader was so worn down that even his mental contact felt raw, hoarse. _(Is that really you?)_

_(Of course it's me,)_ Obi-Wan snorted. _(Who else would be talking to you like this? Now come along back here before Master Halcyon decides to whistle again and permanently damages my hearing.)_

_(Yes Master,) _was his weary response.

"He's coming," Obi-Wan announced quietly, shutting off his saber and clipping it back to his belt.

"You're sure?" Nejaa frowned, doing the same with his own saber.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded. "So no more whistling if you please."

"Oh alright," Nejaa sighed.

Obi-Wan settled himself down on a half-rotted tree trunk that was conveniently close by. Nejaa stood nearby, keeping an eye out for any trouble. And that was how they waited.

…For about five minutes or so.

"Yagh!" A hoarse cry and then the filthy, haggard form of Vader fell through some brush into a heap at their feet. "…Uhn…" He groaned, but made no immediate attempt to get up.

From what Obi-Wan could see – mostly Vader's back – the young man didn't look very good. There just as many rips in his tunics as there had been in his abandoned cloak. His tunics were also soaked and stained with mud and what looked to be blood. And he didn't smell particularly pleasant either.

"You look terrible," Obi-Wan mumbled, blurting out the first thing that came to mind in his shock.

"Thank you," Vader muttered into the dirt.

Quickly Obi-Wan shook off his surprise and knelt down to help heft Vader up. "Come on, get up, let me see the rest of you."

Vader sluggishly did his best to obey. He squirmed around on the ground until he managed to prop himself up into a sitting position. Obi-Wan did his best not to gasp or recoil at what he saw.

The young man was an absolute mess. His right arm was cradled against his chest and tucked into the front of his layered tunics, hiding whatever damage the prosthetic had sustained from sight. His face was a collage of cuts and bruises, the right side being worse than the left. There was a deep gash dangerously close to the corner of his right eye, which was swollen shut. The left eye was bloodshot and hazy with fever, the eyelid flickered and drooped, struggling to stay open. And there was only a frayed tuft of hair left where his Padawan braid had been.

"Star's End," Obi-Wan cursed softly.

"Damn, I must really look bad," Vader rasped, choking painfully on a half-hysterical laugh. "I got you to swear!"

"Well, if you can still laugh, there's still hope for you." Obi-Wan joked. "Come on," he coaxed, holding out a hand, "let's get off this planet."

Vader eagerly reached up with his left hand, only to stop halfway when he realized he was still clutching his lightsaber hilt. Scowling he awkwardly reached around to hook the metal cylinder to its clip on his right side. Then he was able to take Obi-Wan's hand and be pulled to his feet.

Obi-Wan helped support the swaying younger man, looping Vader's left arm over his shoulders and sliding his right arm around the 'Padawan's' waist. Vader gratefully leaned on Obi-Wan and his weight almost sent the both of them back down to the ground. Seeing this, Nejaa approached and helped support Vader on his right side.

To do this properly, Vader had to remove his right hand from the concealing folds of his tunics and wrap it around Nejaa's shoulders. That revealed just how damaged the robotic prosthetic was. It was dull with scratches and scuffs and dings, and the hand itself was frozen in a mangled useless claw.

"You really are a mess." Obi-Wan sighed as he and Nejaa basically dragged Vader's weak, shaky form out of the trees and into the clear rocky ground at the base of the plateau. It wasn't the best place to get the shuttle to land and pick them up, but it would have to do. Vader was just too big and heavy to move very far, very fast. "You'll be in a Bacta tank for at least a month." He grumbled with false-seriousness.

"I hate Bacta," Vader moaned weakly. "It's all cold and sticky and nasty."

"It's a necessary evil." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't think anyone really likes Bacta. But it works."

"I know," Vader mumbled. And then, while Nejaa hailed the shuttle, Vader made a strange comment. "I miss sand," he sighed.

"Oh?" Obi-Wan blinked, confused.

"Dry heat I can take," Vader coughed, "but not this. Air is not meant to be tangible." His voice sounded distant, like he wasn't all there. Considering the fact that he probably hadn't slept all that much in the three days that he'd been stranded here and that he was probably sick, it was very possible that he wasn't entirely there.

"Well we'll be out of here soon." Obi-Wan murmured soothingly. "Back into nice, recycled, climate-controlled air."

"Five minutes," Nejaa added, informing them of the shuttle's estimated time of arrival.

Vader only sighed and slumped down between the two Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan and Nejaa strained under Vader's dead weight and fervently wished the shuttle would hurry up and get them. Time decided to slow to a crawl, making the wait stretch on forever.

When the shuttle finally did touch down, the two Jedi Masters wasted no time in dragging Vader aboard. They strapped him into a seat, strapped themselves in, and signaled to the pilots to lift off. As the vehicle shuddered through the layers of the atmosphere, Vader gave a hoarse laugh.

"This is the greatest Life Day present ever!" He cackled, then dissolved into a brief spasm of coughing.

"That's right," Obi-Wan chuckled, "it is your Life Day today, isn't it."

"Yeah," Vader panted then, just after the shuttle made the transition to light speed, fell silent.

A little worried at the sudden silence, Obi-Wan twisted around to glance at Vader. The young man was completely limp, out cold. Now that he was off the planet and safely in hyperspace, he could finally relax enough to sleep. Obi-Wan smiled sadly.

_Happy Life Day. Sweet dreams…_


	49. 48: Scar

**Note: **Sorry this late, but the document manager was being...evil.

Also, you guys totally rule! Just over two hundred reviews! Awesomeness!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 48**  
_Scar_

Vader jerked awake with a start, gasping in panic. His eyes darted around wildly, seeing absolutely nothing familiar. He tried to get up of whatever the heck he was laying on to escape, but the combination of restraints fastened around his ankles, waist, and wrists and sheer exhaustion kept him from going anywhere.

_Shit! Kriffin' hell! How could I fall asleep? How long have I been out? Where am I? Where is–_

"Calm down," someone commanded sternly.

He whirled on the voice, eyes blazing. "Where's Obi-Wan?" Vader demanded, his mind only working enough to recognize that the man he was addressing wasn't his Master.

"He's back on Muunilinst." The man he confronted replied calmly.

Vader blinked, gasped for breath, and tried to make sense of that answer. It took a while as his mind was still muddled with sleep and roiling with the burst of adrenalin his panic had provoked. But as his confusion started to clear, the pain caught up with him.

"Oh ouch," he grunted, sinking back down onto the cot that he was bound to. "Where's the Reek that trampled me?" He wheezed.

The man didn't answer. Apparently he didn't find Vader's weak attempt at levity amusing. He just sat there silently. And then it hit Vader just who he was dealing with.

_Aw crap, it's Master Halcyon again._ He moaned softly and closed his eyes…well, eye. His right eye remained swollen shut so it hadn't been open in the first place.

"Where are we going?" Vader asked partly out of curiosity, partly to distract himself from the constant throbbing pain.

"To the Med-Star ship, _Wandering Star,_ in the Bellthar System." Master Halcyon replied.

"Oh," Vader blinked his one eye. That didn't tell him much. In pain, tired, and bored, he tried to make the time pass faster. "How long until we get there?"

"Just under a half an hour." Master Halcyon answered.

"Am I going to be tied down the whole time?" Vader wondered.

"Do you have to get up?" Master Halcyon asked.

"No," Vader replied after a moment's thought.

"Then you stay tied up until the Healers examine you." Master Halcyon declared.

"Okay," Vader sighed. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean?" Master Halcyon frowned.

"Don't you have better things to do than sit around and stare at me? Maybe some battlefront that you're needed at?" Vader suggested.

"No, not at the moment." Master Halcyon replied. "Master Kenobi asked me to escort you to the _Wandering Star_ and I agreed."

"Oh," Vader started tapping a little rhythm with the fingers of his left hand. "Why did you agree?"

"I agreed because Master Kenobi is my respected colleague and I had no other pressing business at the time." Master Halcyon replied a tad stiffly.

"So it's not because you like me in any way, shape, or form?" Vader asked with a little smirk.

"No," Master Halcyon scowled.

"Just checking," Vader sighed, shifting a little to try and get more comfortable. "Do you like _chaavi_ soup?"

"I don't know, I've never had any." Master Halcyon was starting to sound irritated.

"You should try it some time," Vader grinned. "Obi-Wan tried some of mine once. It was too spicy for him, though." He switched his fingertips to a different rhythm. "Is there anything interesting in the Bellthar System?"

"Aside from the _Wandering Star_, there are a few mining stations in the asteroid belt, but nothing else of note." Master Halcyon was _really_ starting to sound irritated.

"That's too bad," Vader sighed. "Have you been to any particularly interesting places lately?"

"Do you always talk so much?" Master Halcyon grumbled.

"No. But I'm bored and I hurt and I'm tired, but not tired enough to sleep anymore, so I'm passing the time by talking." Vader replied with slightly strained cheerfulness.

"Wonderful," Master Halcyon sighed, rubbing his hands wearily over his face. "Just what I need."

"I'm sorry," Vader shrugged stiffly, his tone and the mischievous grin on his face showing just how sorry he really was.

"How does Master Kenobi put up with you?" Master Halcyon wondered, shaking his head.

"Maybe I'm just cuddly and loveable?" Vader suggested hopefully.

Master Halcyon looked so appalled at that idea that Vader couldn't help but laugh at his expression. The laughing, however, aggravated his raw throat and bruised ribs, making each chuckle turn into a stab of pain. Still it took a few minutes before he was able to stop.

"Nah, I think I stopped being cuddly around age nine and loveable around age thirteen." Vader wheezed, wincing in discomfort.

The Corellian Master still didn't seem all that amused, but it looked like he'd relaxed some. He glanced over at a chronometer and smiled with satisfaction. "Three minutes until we transition back to sublight speed. Thank the Force."

"Yippee," Vader coughed, then yawned.

"Don't fall asleep now," Master Halcyon warned. "You need to be conscious so the Healers can ask you where it hurts when they poke and prod you."

"Ugh," Vader groaned, "what _fun_!"

* * *

Nejaa Halcyon stood a silent vigil on the deck that contained the Bacta tanks. He leaned against a bulkhead, his eyes fixed on one tube in particular. He'd promised Obi-Wan he'd look after Vader, and that was exactly what he was doing. 

The fluid in the tube was a greenish shade, a mixture of sticky Bacta fluid and powerful antibiotics. The Bacta would speed the healing of his many cuts and abrasions and the antibiotics would help destroy any infection. But this was only the first step.

After several days of soaking in this tube, Vader would be fished out for a date with some bone menders, devices that stimulated damaged bones into healing much faster than they normally would. It wasn't that any of his bones were broken, but several of Vader's ribs were severely bruises, and a few were even cracked. The bone menders would significantly cut down the healing time and the amount of time he'd be in pain from that.

Next his new prosthetic hand should be completed and would then be attached. Before he'd been dunked in the tank they'd taken measurements of his intact left hand and forearm so they could more accurately fabricate him a new right hand. Right now his old ruined prosthetic had been removed, leaving the stump of his arm bare, revealing the naked ends of his nerve implants and the two metal projections that jutted out of the remains of his radius and ulna bones.

And then after some recovery time, and assuming he suffered no setbacks or complications, he should be healed enough to be discharged. The most concrete estimate a Healer had given him as a timeframe for all of this was two to three weeks. He really didn't know what he was going to do with himself during that time.

A medical droid wandered over and took some readings on Vader's Bacta tube. Seemingly satisfied with what it found, it wandered off to check on its next patient. Nejaa shifted against the wall and sighed.

He really didn't know what to think of the young man who floated limply in the tube across from him. Years ago when he'd first encountered him it had been simple. Vader was a servant of the Darkness, an enemy, someone to not be trusted. But now…

Now things were complicated. The fact that he hadn't recognized Vader when he first appeared on Malaar was a testament to that. The thought that he, an experienced Jedi Master, couldn't tell the difference between a real Jedi Padawan and an imposter with a past in the Dark Side was deeply worrying.

On Malaar, Vader had been bold, coming to their rescue with clones, but without his Master. He'd also been competent to Nejaa's eye, explaining a simple plan with sound reasoning to Padawan Zevik. And he'd be brave to the point of foolishness in his final orders to his troops, to leave him behind if necessary.

That completely went against his recollections of a much younger Vader. He could close his eyes and easily picture the thin, scruffy teenager that he and Obi-Wan had dragged off the dark streets of Coronet. That boy had practically reeked of fear and Darkness, his eyes dark, untrusting, almost violent. That teenager had been clearly dangerous and untrustworthy. But things weren't that clear anymore.

His two very separate impressions of Vader clashed in his mind. There seemed no possible way that the Vader he saw now was the same one he'd met so long ago. How was it physically possible that this beat up twenty-one-year-old Padawan across from him had been that fearful, aggressive fifteen-year-old from Coronet?

Nejaa let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn't going to find any answers here with Vader beyond reach in that tube and deep in a healing trance. But perhaps he could weasel some answers out of the Jedi Council…

_They owe me an explanation,_ Nejaa decided, pushing off the bulkhead in search of a comm station with the proper level of security encryption. _Obi-Wan runs off with Vader and I never hear back from him about what happened. I've been wondering about this for years! They'd better talk…_

_

* * *

_

Vader hung suspended, floating. It was cold, wet, and sticky. And dark, but only because he had his eyes closed. He kept them that way, not wanting to see. If he saw, saw the greenish fluid, he'd freak out. He knew he would. Because he's think that he was drowning, and he hated drowning, was terrified of it.

So he kept his eyes shut and his mind locked into a healing trance. The trance helped focus all his energies on healing, and when combined with the Bacta tank he was in, it accelerated his recovery even further. The trance also muted his physical sensations, making the floating-in-sticky-cold-fluid feeling seem distant, dream-like, and entirely tolerable.

But then something disturbed him. A pressure on his mind. Coaxing him to wake up, open his eyes, move. Vader refused to. He wouldn't wake up, snap out of it, until he was out of the cylindrical tube they'd submerged him in. However the mental touches that prodded at him also refused to leave him be.

Eventually he caved and did as he was asked. He opened his eyes, woke up, and fought the impulse to panic. Never mind that he had an oxygen mask firmly strapped to his face, he was 'underwater' and he didn't want to be.

A light grew bright over his head. Struggling not to hyperventilate, Vader tried to swim up. He was hampered by his sudden loss of his right hand, but someone was also pulling on him, so he made it to the surface. Trembling, coated in sticky sour-smelling goo, disoriented, and all but naked, Vader felt some measure of relief as he broke into open air a deck above where he'd just been.

Someone was nearby. A shape made blurry by the viscous Bacta fluid that ran into his eyes and the blinding lights that shone down from above. He was rubbed down carefully with soft towels and quickly wrapped in a plain bathrobe. The mask, embarrassing plastic shorts, and various little sensors were then peeled off his person and he was hoisted up onto a hover-stretcher.

As his vision slowly cleared, Vader identified the 'someone' as a Mon Calamari woman. Assisting her were a pair of silent medical droids, but they were boring so he ignored them. The Mon Calamarian was much more interesting.

She was a Jedi Healer, a Force-sensitive who focused her skills mainly on healing others instead of running around the galaxy enforcing justice. He also found her pretty for her species with her patterned salmon pink skin and large liquid silver eyes. And she was sort of familiar…

"Bant?" He croaked, wincing at how awful his voice sounded.

"Yes?" She turned slightly as she helped guide the floating hover-stretcher through the Med-Star's narrow, sterile corridors. Her silvery eyes were cloudy with fatigue and Vader wasn't sure if she realized who he was, or even if she remembered him at all.

"How long was I in the tank?" He asked meekly.

"Just under four days," she replied after quickly consulting his electronic charts.

_Okay, she definitely hasn't recognized me,_ Vader decided. _And she's probably too tired to wonder how the heck I know her name._ He sighed and did his best to relax on the stretcher as he awaited his next medical treatment.

Bant led his stretcher into a room and parked it next to a stationary bed, bolted to the floor. She helped him get up, half-supporting him as his legs felt like jelly after floating in a tube for days and not actually eating anything for even longer. The two medical droids helped him into a loose pair of shorts, sterile hospital white, and a loose hospital gown, the kind that's always open in the back.

"Wait here," Bant murmured wearily and took the stretcher away, leaving him sitting on the bed by himself.

"Um, okay," Vader blinked as the two medical droids also exited the room.

Alone, he decided to take stock of himself. He was still starving. They'd given him a small bowl of nutrient broth before dunking him in the Bacta and then he'd survived on an intravenous line pumping nutrients straight into his blood while in the tank, but that was nothing really. His stomach was quite empty and he really hoped to get the chance to fill it soon.

He didn't itch anymore, which was a plus. All the evil bug bites he'd sustained on Malaar had been cured by the Bacta bath. As he studied his skin, he noted all the ugly bruises had faded significantly, only the really bad ones were still visible at all. And as he ran his left hand over his skin he found all the little cuts and abrasions were gone too. But when his hand got to his face, he felt something near his right eye.

_Geez, is that a scar?_ He wondered, tracing the vertical line of rough skin that bordered the corner of his eye. _I need a mirror._

_Hey wait,_ he blinked. _I can see out of my right eye!_ He grinned in giddy relief. _Depth perception I have missed you!_

But the cheer quickly wore off as his eye caught his right hand. Or, more accurately the limp sleeve where his hand should've been. He wasn't sure what was worse, the sight of it, or the feel of it, it still felt like he should have a hand there. _I think I prefer to do this sedated,_ he cringed, longing to be put to sleep so he wouldn't have to be conscious and deal with this.

The smell of food hit his nose and quite effectively distracted him from his lack of a right hand. His head jerked up to see Bant returning with a hot steaming bowl of…something. He really didn't care what it was so long as it was edible and for him.

"Here we go young Padawan," Bant smiled, bringing the bowl over to him and carefully placing it in his lap. "Hopefully this should be enough for now."

_I'm not young, I'm twenty…twenty-one!_ He thought a tad sourly, though he was more focused on the food. "Thanks," he grinned, awkwardly picking up the spoon with his left hand.

"You are very welcome." Bant nodded, moving back to give him some space.

Vader gleefully dug into the thick, almost paste-like, soup. It didn't taste much like anything and was probably just condensed nutrients and calories, but it was warm and it was food so he loved it. Eating it was kind of tricky, he wasn't a lefty and to keep the bowl from shifting he held it still with the inside of his right elbow. But he managed well enough and quickly found the bottom of the bowl.

"You were hungry," Bant commented in amusement, taking the empty bowl and spoon away and setting them aside.

"Yeah, it's been practically a week since I really ate anything." Vader sighed, wishing for just a little bit more.

"Really?" Bant frowned, concerned. "What happened to you?"

"Oh I was stranded on a jungle planet for a few days and hunted by Trandoshans." Vader shrugged casually, wincing a little as his still sore ribs protested the motion.

"Oh my goodness!" Bant blinked in alarm. "That's awful!"

"Yeah, I suppose," Vader sighed. "But hey, I'm still alive."

"Yes, you are." Bant agreed. Her expression turned thoughtful and she retrieved his charts to study again. "Oh my!" She gasped. "Padawan Vader?"

_Ah, so **now** you know it's me,_ he smirked a little. "Yes?"

"Is Obi-Wan here?" She asked hopefully.

"Uh," Vader frowned in concentration for a moment. "No, he's still stuck by Muunilinst. Master Halcyon brought me here."

"Oh," Bant slumped a little, disappointed.

"He'll come when he can though," he added confidently.

"Good, I'll be looking forward to that." Bant smiled and gently pressed him back on the bed with her webbed hand. "Now relax," she ordered, pulling the top of his hospital gown down. "We'll get some bone mending units attached to you to fix up your ribs and tomorrow you should be ready for surgery."

"Surgery?" Vader frowned as the medical droids returned with the small boxy bone mending units. "What do I need surgery for?"

"You need some upgrades to your neural implants for your new prosthetic." Bant explained as she moved aside so that the droids could attach the units to Vader's skin and activate them. "The only way to do that is to do a quick surgery."

"Oh," Vader mumbled, cringing a bit when one of the droids pressed a bit too hard on his chest. "Do I need upgrades?"

"Well yes, if you want the newer model of prosthetic hand that's been developed." Bant replied. "Or do you prefer the old model?"

"What? No," Vader scowled. "Golden skeleton hands don't suit me."

"Alright then," Bant smiled, checking over the droids' work. "You should like your new hand then."

"Good," Vader relaxed, relieved.

"You should be all set," Bant murmured, making some notes on his chart. "Now just lay as still as you can. These units should have you as good as new in a few hours, the droids will come back to remove them. If you need anything there's a switch just over there," she indicated a little red button next to the bed. "Now I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks Bant, see you later!" He waved a little with his left hand.

Bant waved back and left the room, the medical droids trailing after her. Alone again, he did his best to settle back into the medical cot and tried to take a nap. But despite his more comfortable situation and condition, a lingering sense of loneliness wormed through him.

_I'm bored Obi-Wan, hurry up and get here…_

_

* * *

_

Nejaa wandered into Vader's assigned room bearing a tray laden with dinner. The past few days had been full of little but frustration, even boredom. Aside from a long-distance conversation with Master Yoda, all he'd done here was meditate and wander the corridors of the _Wandering Star_, peering into rooms where injured clones, Jedi, even some civilians were being treated. But maybe now that his temporary charge was out of the Bacta tank he would find something more satisfying to do with himself.

Vader was dozing peacefully on his plain medical cot. Nejaa noted an angry looking scar running along his right temple. It seemed that that particular wound had been so deep and infected that not even Bacta had been able to keep it from scarring over. _Oh well, he's lucky he didn't die…_

The young man's eyes suddenly snapped open, revealing startlingly blue orbs. "Is that for me?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes," Nejaa sighed, "it is." He almost reluctantly brought the tray over to the young man's bedside. "The best the mess hall has to offer. Enjoy."

Vader grinned and squirmed up into a sitting position so he could more easily devour his food. He clumsily stabbed away at his meal holding his fork in his left hand. With the tray balanced on his knees and helped stay in place with the truncated stump of his right arm, he shoveled in the mashed Atoran sweet potatoes, steamed miscellaneous vegetables, and the Nerf meat tetrazini at a pace that bordered on rude. Nejaa wondered if he had time to breathe in between bites.

"Are you chewing any of that?" Nejaa asked, feeling a little worried. He might not like Vader but he certainly didn't want him to choke.

Vader paused, chewed his current mouthful, and swallowed before answering. "Yes, mostly." He replied sheepishly.

"Well chew a bit more," Nejaa frowned. "I don't want to have to tell Master Kenobi that you choked to death while I was on watch."

"Yeah…that would be bad." Vader cringed and proceeded to eat a bit slower.

Nejaa shook his head and propped his shoulder against the nearby bulkhead as he continued to watch Vader consume his dinner. It was getting hard to really remember what it was like to be that young. He hated to admit it, but it was true. _I'm starting to get old…_

"Thank you Master Halcyon." Vader sighed, carefully setting the tray aside with his remaining hand.

"You're welcome." Nejaa nodded.

"So did I miss anything while I was in that tube?" Vader asked curiously.

"No, not really." Nejaa sighed. He resettled his cloak over his shoulders, smoothing out a few slight wrinkles before speaking again. "So how are you feeling?"

"Better, much better." Vader smiled a little settling back on his bed. "I'll feel great when I get my new hand tomorrow. Looking at this…stump…is really starting to creep me out." He cringed as he glanced at the limp sleeve of his hospital bathrobe.

"Well this'll be the second time for you with this so you know it's not too bad." Nejaa muttered awkwardly, hoping to be somewhat reassuring.

"Last time I was hand-less I was kept under by the Force or by sedatives." Vader grumped. "One moment I had my arm chopped off and I was knocked out, the next thing I remember was waking up with an ugly golden skeletal thing grafted onto me. It was all rather traumatic."

"Oh," Nejaa rubbed the back of his neck.

There was a lengthy pause that Vader hesitantly decided to break. "Hey Master Halcyon?"

"Hmm?" Nejaa grunted questioningly.

"There's a scar on my face, right?" Vader anxiously pointed towards the fresh scar near his eye.

"Yes," Nejaa answered slowly.

"Is it bad?" Vader asked worriedly.

Nejaa fought the sudden impulse to laugh. "No, not really. Though," he scratched his chin thoughtfully, "you look a little more like a pirate than a Padawan."

"A pirate?" Vader frowned in confusion.

"Yes, especially with your braid missing." Nejaa confirmed.

"Huh?" Vader squeaked, his left hand darting upward to check for himself. "Will I get in trouble?"

"No," Nejaa chuckled a little. "You won't get in trouble. Padawans sometimes lose their braids early on accident, they just have to grow a new one is all." He tilted his head slightly as he studied the young man. "Though at your age, it's a little embarrassing to have to do that."

"Oh boy," Vader grumbled sarcastically, sulkily crossing his arms over his chest. "I always have the _best_ luck."

"There's no such thing as luck," Nejaa corrected.

"I know, I know, it's just an expression." Vader scowled down at his toes at the end of his cot.

"It's not one the Jedi use," Nejaa pointed out.

"Right," Vader sighed and then yawned.

Nejaa glanced over at a chronometer and noted the time. "It's getting late," he remarked, scooping up Vader's used tray. "I'll leave you alone so you can sleep."

"Thanks Master Halcyon," Vader murmured gratefully. "Good night."

"Good night," Nejaa replied, leaving the room and heading towards the mess hall to return the used mail tray.

As Nejaa navigated the labyrinth of corridors towards the _Wandering Star_'s mess hall, he considered what he'd learned from Vader, and from his conversation with Master Yoda. The ancient Jedi Master had many interesting things to tell him when he'd called a few days ago. And now, after his visit with Vader he was starting to believe at least some of what Yoda had told him.

The young man had definitely changed. He was certainly physically older than he had been when he and Nejaa had first met. And he seemed more – well, for lack of a better word, more normal. He behaved very much like a Jedi his age would in his situation, worrying about how disfiguring his new scar was and so on.

Yoda also believed him to be more mature, though Nejaa wasn't entirely ready to agree on that count. Nor was he ready to completely believe that Vader was loyal to the Jedi Order, more specifically Obi-Wan himself. But for now, he decided to give Vader the benefit of the doubt.

After he deposited the used tray in the proper receptacle in the mess hall, he headed for his temporary quarters. The day had been a long one and though he wasn't really tired, sleep would help bring the next day on faster. And perhaps he would be fortunate and have nice dreams while he slept.

But for hours, sleep eluded him. It was an uncomfortably common problem these days for him. Unless he was exhausted both physically and mentally, sleep wouldn't come quickly.

_I miss Mina,_ he sighed into his pillow. _Maybe after this I can go back to Corellia and see her again. I hope…_

_

* * *

_

Vader slowly drifted back to consciousness, fighting some odd haze in his mind. For a while he was confused, he couldn't recall anything he'd done recently, or where he was. But as it slowly filtered back to him, he remembered that he was on a Med-Star and that he had surgery coming up.

_No…no wait… I've already had the surgery,_ he realized. _They put me under before I could eat any breakfast._ His eyes opened and glared at the sterile white ceiling with sleepy annoyance. _Hey…_

"You're awake," A kind voice, Bant, cheerfully remarked.

"Yeah," Vader croaked, his mouth and tongue felt thick and clumsy from the lingering sedatives. "Do I get breakfast now?"

"In a few minutes after you wake up a little bit more," she laughed.

"Okay," Vader agreed a little sullenly. He was starting to feel how hungry he was.

"Let's see if you can sit up," Bant suggested.

Vader sighed but obeyed, slowly propping himself up and blinking away a slight dizzy spell. He glanced down to see his right arm was now the proper length, but his new prosthetic was hidden under a bulky wrap of gauzy bandages. He glanced questioningly up at Bant.

"So did everything go okay?" He asked worriedly. _Why the bandages?_

"Yes," Bant smiled. "The gauze is more to keep it clean and healthy post-surgery, but they aren't really necessary. In fact," she reached down and started to unravel the wrappings, "let's just take them off now."

Vader watched with interest and some anxiety as the strips were carefully unwound. Bit by bit, shiny silver-gray durasteel was revealed instead of the gaudy brassy-gold of his prosthetic. By the time all the gauze was removed, Vader decided he liked what he saw.

Instead of imitating the skeletal structure of his lost hand, it looked more like the complete hand he'd lost. Its dimensions matched those of his left arm exactly, the only difference being that they had been flipped to create a new right hand. The only way it could look more life-like was if it had some sort of synth-skin covering that matched his skin tone.

He found the appearance of his new appendage a vast improvement over the old one. But the point of the surgery was to upgrade his implants so that it would function better too. Now it was time to test it.

Experimentally he tried to make a fist and the hand responded. He had a little bit of a déjà vu feeling as the hand prickled uncomfortably, bringing to mind his early experiences with the older skeletal model. But thankfully it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been then, and hopefully it would clear up quickly. He didn't want to spend months rehabilitating himself again.

"Now this hand I like," Vader grinned in satisfaction, curling and uncurling his fist, ignoring the pins-and-needles sensations.

"I'm glad," Bant laughed softly. "Now how does it feel?"

"A little tingly," Vader shrugged, "but nothing terrible."

"Good, now I'll be back with some breakfast..." She glanced up at the chronometer. "Well, lunch," she amended. "You just sit tight."

"Yes ma'am!" Vader jokingly saluted with his new hand.

Bant shook her head at his antics and exited. Vader laid back with a pleased grin. Things were really looking up. Maybe by the time Obi-Wan got here, he'd be ready to be released.

"Oh, you're awake now?" Someone asked, catching Vader's attention.

He turned his head to see Master Halcyon peering inside. "Yep."

"So how's the new hand?" Master Halcyon inquired curiously, still standing in the doorway.

"It's good," Vader answered. "You can come in if you want."

Master Halcyon nodded and slipped inside to sit on one of the two chairs provided for any visitors. Vader noted that the Master appeared tired, like he hadn't slept enough for a few nights. He rubbed his cool robotic hand over the back of his neck as he shifted into a cross-legged sitting position.

"Are you…okay?" Vader asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" Master Halcyon blinked. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"You look tired." Vader shrugged.

"Oh, well I'm fine." Master Halcyon grumbled, looking a bit irritated.

"Okay," Vader easily dropped the subject.

Things would've fallen into an uncomfortable silence, except that Bant returned with breakfast. "Oh hello Master Halcyon," Bant blinked as she passed Vader the breakfast tray.

"Hello Healer Eerin." Master Halcyon greeted.

"How are you doing?" Bant asked politely. "You look tired," she noted.

"Sometimes sleep is hard to come by." Master Halcyon shrugged evasively.

Bant accepted the answer easily enough. "So how's your breakfast?" She asked, turning to Vader.

"Good," Vader grinned.

It was a little tricky to eat the bowl of oatmeal, laced with anonymous chunks of fruit. His new hand didn't grip the same as his old one did so it took a little experimenting to figure out how to hold his spoon without dropping it, but he managed well enough.

"Wonderful," Bant smiled. "Oh, and I've heard some news." She added, remembering something. "In a few days we'll be moving to Corellia to re-supply."

"Really?" Master Halcyon perked up considerably.

"Yes," she nodded. "That's what the crew's been talking about."

Vader raised a curious eyebrow at Master Halcyon's sudden change in mood at the news. He seemed quite excited to go home after doing a great deal of nothing. In his experience, Jedi weren't all that excited to go 'home' after an assignment, even a difficult one, just relieved. Vader sensed some hidden motivation for returning to Corellia in Master Halcyon. But what could it be?

When he'd scraped the last traces of oatmeal from his bowl, he moved on to the plain muffin and Shaak bacon that came with it. As he ate, slower than he would've liked on account of his new hand, he pondered possible reasons that Master Halcyon had for wanting to be home. Not knowing the man all that well, he wasn't really able to come up with anything he thought was realistic.

The instant he was done, Bant retrieved his used tray. "Is that enough?" She asked politely.

"Yes, thank you." Vader replied, settling back comfortably.

"Good," Bant nodded, heading for the door. "If you need anything else, just call. I have other patients requiring my attention."

"Bye," Vader waved after her cheerfully.

As Bant disappeared, Master Halcyon took note of Vader's shiny new appendage. "So that's your new hand?"

"Mm-hm," Vader smirked, admiring it again. "It's _so_ much better than the last one."

"It's rather shiny." Master Halcyon pointed out.

"But it's not gold." Vader countered. "Plain old gray durasteel I can deal with just fine. And it doesn't look like it was ripped off a skeleton either."

"True," Master Halcyon conceded.

Silence fell then as Master Halcyon seemed to let his mind drift off. Vader took advantage of the lengthy pause to think. Though this time instead of pondering the mystery of Master Halcyon's desire to return to Corellia, he considered the Corellian Master in general.

Master Halcyon seemed to have loosened up a bit since they'd last met years ago in Coronet. He wasn't quite as openly hostile as he'd been then. In fact he was almost nice.

_He's really not all that bad,_ Vader decided.

The Jedi Master suddenly came back to the present. "So, do you like flying?" He asked curiously.

Vader grinned mischievously. "Why yes I do…"

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed in relief as he entered his cabin aboard the Star Destroyer _Valiant_. The room felt rather empty with Vader missing. But he was leaving here today anyway. 

He had finally been released from supervising the operations on Muunilinst and now could catch up with his injured charge. It had taken over a week, which was far too long, but now things had settled down enough for him to leave. And he was more than happy to leave this star system far behind him.

The Jedi Master emptied out the two storage bins in preparation for his imminent departure. The top bin held his clothes and things, the bottom one held Vader's things. As he packed his Padawan's bag, he noticed something that made him shake his head.

Unless Vader had anymore Jedi robes back on Coruscant, which Obi-Wan doubted he did, this was his last complete, wearable set left. So as soon as possible, it seemed he'd be escorting the young man down to the tailors to pick up some more clothes. It wouldn't do for Vader to be wandering around only partly dressed because he'd ruined all his other robes.

_Oh well,_ Obi-Wan sighed as he finished packing both bags. _I'm out of here,_ he smiled a little as he settled the bags over his shoulders. His cabin cleared out, he left the room behind and headed for the hanger bay and the shuttle that would take him to the Med-Star ship, the _Wandering Star…_


	50. 49: Corellia

**Chapter 49**  
_Corellia_

Obi-Wan stepped into the room a medical droid had informed him should contain his injured Padawan. Not entirely to his surprise, the room was quite empty. Grumbling incoherently in frustration, he set down the two bags he'd been carrying and took a seat in one of the two visitors' chairs provided.

By his estimation, Vader was probably almost healed by this point and so was most likely on his feet wandering around the ship. Knowing the young man's restless nature, he was content to wait for him to return. There was no immediate need to summon him through the bond, so he didn't. He just sat and waited.

He didn't have long to wait. Not ten minutes after he'd settled in, Vader and Nejaa Halcyon walked in. Vader was clad in a pair of thin slippers, a white and blue patterned hospital gown, and a fluffy white bathrobe, very similar to the type of garb he'd been in when Obi-Wan had found him during his flight from the hospital in Coronet. He and Nejaa were chatting animatedly about some new high-performance speeder and were oblivious to his presence.

Obi-Wan was pleased to see that Nejaa appeared to have lost a great deal of his animosity towards Vader. The two of them were talking almost like old friends. It was a nice enough sight to make him forgive the fact that they still had yet to notice him sitting there in the room with them.

"…and that's why the ZX-25 is better," Vader declared smugly after lecturing Nejaa about why one speeder was superior to another.

"Fascinating," Obi-Wan commented dryly before Nejaa could fire back a response.

Both men started in surprise and whirled around to see who else was in the room with them. Obi-Wan stubbornly refused to laugh at their comical startled expressions and simply sat there and waited for them to recover their wits. Vader was the first to snap out of it, and his reaction was…interesting.

"Obi-Wan!" He cried and pounced on the startled Jedi Master. Yes. _Pounced._

"Agh!" Obi-Wan grunted as the younger, though larger, man crashed into him. He was almost pushed out of the chair and onto the floor by the impact and it took a moment to catch his breath. "I suppose this means that you missed me." He wheezed as Vader squeezed him.

"Mm-hm," Vader nodded in Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan could feel Vader's relief and happiness even without the connection provided by the latent bond that tied them together. But…

"Aren't you a little old to be doing this?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yeah," Vader sighed reluctantly and even more reluctantly let go and got up.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan sighed in relief, rubbing on the sore spots that Vader had inadvertently inflicted upon him. "Well, you seem to be doing much better."

"Yes, I am." Vader grinned.

And that was about the time that Obi-Wan spied the rather awful-looking scar on his temple. "Oh goodness," he murmured, "That's some scar."

"Really?" Vader frowned. "I can't tell, I haven't been able to find a mirror yet. Master Halcyon says it makes me look like a pirate."

Obi-Wan snorted a brief laugh. "Yes, I suppose it does."

"So, does it look bad?" Vader asked with a faint hint of anxiety in his voice.

"Not too bad," Obi-Wan decided after studying the scar for a moment. "It's just a little startling to see at first."

"Okay," Vader sighed in relief.

"Worried that all the girls'll think you're ugly now?" Nejaa teased, finally getting over his surprise at Obi-Wan's appearance and Vader's childish greeting.

"What? No!" Vader protested, though it was clearly a lie. Neither of them needed the Force to tell them that, his dark blush gave him away. Both Masters couldn't help but laugh at him a little.

"Don't worry," Nejaa chuckled, "girls like battle scars."

"Ugh," Vader groaned, burying his burning face in his hands, completely mortified. "Change the subject please?"

"Alright," Obi-Wan sighed, sobering a bit. "I hear we'll be heading to Corellia shortly."

"Yeah, that's what Bant said." Vader nodded, eagerly latching onto the new topic of conversation.

"Bant?" Obi-Wan blinked. "Bant's here?"

"Yep," Vader nodded. "Maybe she'll stop by later."

"I hope so," Obi-Wan replied. It'd been a while since he'd seen his friend and he'd like to see how she was doing.

"She probably will, she visits here a lot." Vader shrugged, fiddling with the cuffs of his bathrobe's sleeves.

"Hm," Obi-Wan murmured, catching sight of Vader's new prosthetic. "Let me see that." He lifted the robotic hand up and studied it curiously. "A new model?" He observed. "You like it?"

"Oh yeah," Vader grinned enthusiastically. "Way better than the old one."

Obi-Wan chuckled and did nothing to correct Vader's poor grammar. "Good."

Vader rotated his new wrist and winced slightly. "Kind of tingly though."

"It should pass in a few days," Bant declared, gliding into the room.

"Bant!" Obi-Wan smiled, turning to meet his old friend. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she assured him with a smile. "It's good to see you again, and in much better shape than last time."

"Last time?" Nejaa asked curiously.

"Yes, last time, just after he returned from the dead." Bant snorted.

"Oh…oh right, I heard about that." Nejaa muttered thoughtfully.

"I'm glad you decided to take better care of yourself this time Obi-Wan." Bant smiled.

"Yes, now it's time for my apprentice to be learning the same lesson." Obi-Wan fought back some chuckles and favored Vader with a mock-glare.

"No worries Master," Vader cringed slightly, "I think I've learned."

"Excellent," Obi-Wan nodded in satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that."

"As am I," Bant sighed. "I don't wish to have to put you back together again."

Vader cringed a bit more and laughed nervously. "I don't want to need to be put back together again."

To save Vader further embarrassment, Obi-Wan steered the conversation onto other topics, such as what Band had been up to since being assigned to the _Wandering Star_. Bant was more than happy to tell him all about it and Nejaa and Vader didn't mind listening along, adding their own questions and comments every now and then. And so, before any of them realized it, hours went by…

* * *

Some days later, the _Wandering Star _dropped out of hyperspace in the Corellian System. The system itself was the heart of the Corellian Sector, a hub of trade and ship-building. And the system is, according to many scientists, quite unnatural.

Almost all the rocky planets in the system were habitable. Aside from Corellia, the capital planet of the system, there were four other worlds capable of supporting life. There was Drall, Selonia, and the truly unique 'twin' worlds of Talus and Tralus, two planets that orbited around each other as they circled their star, Corell. And between the twin worlds hung the ancient space station known as Centerpoint Station.

How the system could form the way it had and who built the mysterious Centerpoint Station remains unknown, but most natives of the system don't care. They were a fiercely independent bunch, usually more concerned with their own affairs than the affairs of the greater galaxy. They'd tried to stay out of the Clone War, but ended up being pulled in anyway, and few were really happy about it.

The Med-Star ship carefully navigated the cluttered outer reaches of the system, passing several bulky orbiting shipyards, to reach Corellia, the third planet out from the star. Once it reached its destination, the bulky hospital ship slid into a high parking orbit over the planet's equator. And as various shuttles came and went from the ship, bringing supplies up and taking some patients down, Obi-Wan, Nejaa, and Vader left for the Jedi Temple outside of Coronet.

After saying good-bye to Bant, who remained stationed aboard the _Wandering Star_, the three of them boarded a shuttle along with a few recovering Jedi that was bound for the Corellian branch of the Jedi Temple. The shuttle wouldn't take them directly there, but to a landing field that was nearby. Then they could be brought the rest of the distance by speeder, or even by foot if they felt like it.

As they descended through the atmosphere, Obi-Wan admired the landscape below as it whizzed by. While Corellia was an advanced world on par with Coruscant, it wasn't nearly as overrun with buildings and urban sprawl as the galactic capital. Corellians love open spaces and so they preserved them by keeping their cities small and moving things like their shipyards out into space.

The shuttle made a pass over Coronet itself as it lined up to land. It was Corellia's largest and most populous city and the planetary capital, located by the shores of one of Corellia's two major oceans. Instead of many tall skyscrapers claustrophobically spaced, the city sprawled wide and low, dotted with many large parks and gardens, giving the city's citizens the wide open spaces they so dearly loved.

When the shuttle landed and dropped its ramp some Corellian Jedi scampered aboard and helped unload their weakened brethren into speeders waiting to take them to the nearby Temple. They greeted Nejaa warmly as he was a well-known Master here and favored Obi-Wan and Vader with curious glances as the three of them disembarked. The three of them hopped into a speeder that didn't contain the other injured Jedi and settled back for the short ride to their destination.

The Corellian branch of the Jedi Temple was vastly different in size and appearance from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Instead of being one massive building shaped like a ziggurat topped by spires, it was a collection of rectangular buildings radiating outward from a central tower like spokes on a primitive wheel. If all the buildings were combined into one, the space contained would be less than a third of what the Coruscant Temple contained, but fewer Jedi lived here so it worked well. The central tower at the heart of the Temple was just like the central spire of the Coruscanti Temple, it was where the Corellian Council (not to be confused with the Jedi High Council on Coruscant) met to manage the rest of the Jedi who lived here. And surrounding the tower and all the other buildings of the Temple were gardens of both native and exotic plants. It lacked the ancient magnificence of the Coruscant Temple, but the Corellian Temple was beautiful in its own way.

The speeder brought them to the Healer's building. Here the other Jedi, who were still injured, were admitted for further treatment. They also checked Vader over and cleared him as healthy. At a few days shy of two weeks, he had exceeded the Healers' earliest estimations of recovery time. It seemed that the Force was with him, as well as the strength and resiliency of youth.

Now they were wandering over the sprawling, wide open Temple grounds. Vader was openly fascinated by the flower-filled gardens, he really hadn't looked around much the last time he was here. Nejaa cheerily waved to Initiates, Padawans, Knights, and Masters that he knew as they walked. Obi-Wan merely noted that there were fewer Jedi around than he remembered. They were probably off on some distant front, fighting in the war.

"Master Halcyon!" A young Whiphid Jedi boomed in his rumbling bass voice as he hurried over to them.

"Yes D'Kink?" Nejaa greeted the massive, long-faced alien.

"This came for you a few days ago." The Knight told him, handing over a scrap of paper that looked smaller than it was due to his large hand.

Nejaa accepted the note, skimmed it, and then went very quiet and still. "Thank you D'Kink," he managed after a few minutes, shoving the note into one of his belt pouches.

The Knight bowed and moved off to take care of some other business. Nejaa stood there for a while, long enough for Obi-Wan to wonder just what the note said. And then Nejaa moved off in a different direction without a word, his jaw set in determination.

Obi-Wan was intrigued and got Vader by the arm, pulling him away from a small carnivorous plant originally from Kashyyyk that he'd been studying, so that they could follow Nejaa and see what was going on. Vader started to protest, but was silenced by Obi-Wan's gesture for quiet. Then he picked up on the interesting hints of turmoil, excitement, and anxiety coming off the striding Corellian Master and he eagerly followed Obi-Wan's lead after the other Master.

Nejaa led them away from the Temple, back into Coronet. He wandered through a residential district on the fringe of the capital, following streets that led to the heart of the city. The Corellian Master skirted the rowdy Treasure Ship Row, a neighborhood that contained many aliens and even a few pirates and smugglers, and headed towards a nearby middle-class apartment complex. Obi-Wan and Vader followed him the entire time and Nejaa seemed oblivious to their presence. But then just as he was about to enter the building, he paused and turned around.

"You followed me?" He blinked, startled.

"Well, yes." Obi-Wan shrugged. "Do you want us to leave?"

Nejaa chewed on his lip thoughtfully and studied the two of them, his eyes lingering longer on Vader, before he came to a decision. "No, you can come in if you like."

"What are we doing out here?" Vader asked curiously.

"I'm out here to visit Mina, you're out here to follow me." Nejaa snorted and headed inside the building.

"Who's Mina?" Vader wondered as he stepped towards the apartment building's front door.

"Mina, I believe, is his wife's name." Obi-Wan replied, recalling that name being mentioned when Nejaa had spoken of his spouse.

Vader got as far as grasping the door handle before freezing. "Could you run that by me again?" His voice was perfectly calm, but Obi-Wan could sense that that was merely a façade.

"Mina is his wife's name." Obi-Wan repeated, amused.

Vader had no visible reaction. He just stood there on the front steps with his shiny metallic right hand holding the door handle. His prolonged silence and lack of movement started to worry Obi-Wan.

"Vader?" Obi-Wan prodded.

"That," Vader said in the same perfectly calm, soft voice, as he slowly turned around to face Obi-Wan, an utterly blank look on his face, "just broke my brain."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but laugh at that statement. "Jedi do occasionally marry too, you know." He chuckled.

"Was he married before?" Vader asked.

"No, he wasn't married when you first met." Obi-Wan smiled. "Shall we go in now, or do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Let's go in." Vader said after a moment, appearing somewhat recovered from his shock. "This I have to see."

"Alright," Obi-Wan nodded, giving Vader a little push to get him through the door.

They climbed a few flights of stairs, honing in on Nejaa Halcyon's presence in the Force. He was on the third floor, down a hallway, chatting with another man. The other man was dressed in the green-and-gray uniform of a CorSec officer.

The CorSec officer turned as he heard the two of them approach. "Friends of yours Nejaa?"

"Yes," Nejaa nodded. "Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan."

"Rostek Horn," the officer named himself and held out his hand to shake. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Obi-Wan agreed, shaking the offered hand.

Before anything else could be said, the door to a nearby apartment opened and a woman in a nightgown and robe bolted out and practically tackled Nejaa. The Corellian Jedi didn't seem to mind one bit, though he barely managed to stay standing after the force of her pounce. Obi-Wan and Vader stared in confusion. Rostek simply looked amused.

"Nejaa!" She squealed, hanging off his neck and snuggling affectionately into his chest.

"Hi Mina," Nejaa smiled, hugging her back.

The two of them started to get more cuddly and affectionate and Obi-Wan felt distinctly uncomfortable watching. A glance in Vader's direction told him that the younger man was just as uncomfortable. Rostek only shook his head at their behavior.

The CorSec officer moved closer to Obi-Wan and whispered. "They'll probably be at this for a while, you might want to wait inside." He gestured to the still open door to Mina's apartment and then walked off, presumably to return to his job or his own home.

Obi-Wan was more than happy to follow Rostek's advice. Carefully steering Vader around Nejaa and his wife, Obi-Wan brought his younger companion inside the apartment and closed the door. While he was happy that his friend had found a woman to love, it was simply too awkward for him to watch them be quite so…affectionate…with each other.

* * *

Vader was just as relieved to get away from the sight and sounds of Master Halcyon making-out with his wife Mina. Watching adults, people that were noticeably older than himself, get all kissy always made him squirm. While it was all well and good that they loved each other, he really didn't want to see them act on it quite so much.

Sighing in relief, Vader glanced around at the inside of Mina's apartment. It was a nice enough place. Simple and uncluttered, but it had a nice homey feel to it. There were some flat images and some short-looped holos hanging on walls and sitting on shelves. The walls were painted in nice warm tones of orange and red, and the carpet and furniture were in shades of creamy off-white.

Spying a mirror on a nearby wall, Vader eagerly walked up to it. He still hadn't found a mirror or surface reflective enough to serve as a decent mirror since his injury on Malaar. He really wanted to know about his pirate-like scar.

_That doesn't look too bad,_ he decided after a moment. _Almost got my eye,_ he noted with a slight wince. _But I can totally live with this._

"There you are." Someone, a woman from the sound of her voice, said.

Vader whirled around to see a woman standing nearby. The woman bore some resemblance to the brief glimpse he'd gotten of Mina, making him think she was a sister or maybe a cousin. She was dressed in business attire and looked irritated. She also had what appeared to be a rumpled up blanket cradled in her arms.

"Here, I have to go, my lunch break's up." The strange woman declared and dumped the blanket into his arms.

"Huh? Wha–" He tried to protest, but the woman had already strode out of the apartment.

_What did she mean? 'There you are?' What the heck?_ Vader blinked, trying to figure out just what the heck was going on. His Master looked equally confused, staring at the closed door where the woman had exited.

_Wait a minute,_ Vader frowned, glancing down at the bundle in his arms. It weighed more than just a plain, ordinary blanket should. Puzzled, he shifted the blanket-wrapped object, freeing up his left hand so he could unwrap the thing. What he found underneath a fold of the blanket almost made him drop it in shock.

_Ack, it's a **baby**! What-what the…?_ He stared at it in confusion. What the heck was a baby doing in Mina's apartment? And then… _Oh eww!_

He was holding concrete proof that Master Halcyon had had sex with his wife. _Gross! Why did she give this thing to **me**?_

"What did she give you?" Obi-Wan asked curiously.

"A baby," Vader replied, still staring at it.

"A-a what?" Obi-Wan sputtered.

"A baby," Vader repeated, wandering over to show Obi-Wan just what was buried in the blanket.

The baby was napping peacefully in the powder blue blanket. It was the tiniest baby Vader had ever seen, let alone held. Its skin was very pink, almost raw looking, and its features looked kind of…squashed and wrinkly.

_This doesn't look like any baby I've ever seen,_ Vader mused. _Any Human baby anyway. Is this normal?_

Obi-Wan appeared to be of the same opinion. He stared down at the infant with an anxious, worried sort of expression, his hand covering his mouth. Vader almost began to wonder if the older Jedi was afraid it.

"How old do you think it is?" Vader asked softly so as not to wake the baby up.

"A few days maybe," Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't really know, I've never seen an infant this young."

"Hmm," Vader hummed and walked over to a couch and sat down.

Obi-Wan trailed after him though stayed standing instead of taking a seat on the couch alongside Vader. The apartment was silent as the two of them either had nothing to say, or said nothing to avoid waking up the baby. And the baby stayed asleep, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

"I wonder if my sister's still here." Mina murmured as she and Nejaa finally decided to come inside.

"No, I'm pretty sure she left." Vader snorted.

"Oh that's too bad." Mina frowned, then seemed to realize who she was speaking to. "Nejaa you brought friends?"

"Well, yes." Nejaa shrugged. "So where is he?"

"I gave him to Jessi to come see you. So…he's wherever she left him." Mina answered, scanning the apartment in search of something, though she clearly missed what she was looking for.

_Hmm…'him'…baby…blue blanket…_ "She gave him to me." Vader sighed, shifting on the couch so she could get a better few of the baby bundle in his arms.

"She did?" Mina blinked in surprise. "Oh there's little Valin!" She cooed, scampering over to collect her misplaced baby.

Vader was more than happy to pass the little bundle of joy back to mommy and be free of the worry that he might drop it on accident. Mina happily cuddled the baby, cooing to him softly in nonsense baby-talk. She then brought the snoozing infant over to Nejaa to show off.

"Look Daddy, isn't he cute?" She gushed.

Nejaa didn't answer. He appeared to be too fascinated with his infant son to have even heard the question, let alone formulate an answer to it. Mina didn't seem to mind this and took his silence to mean an enthusiastic yes.

While the two proud new parents admired their newborn offspring, Vader studied Mina's elaborately carved wooden caf table. It was stained a rich reddish-brown color and covered in images of native Corellian wildlife. Obi-Wan seemed to find it equally fascinating.

That was basically how the rest of the visit went. Mina and Nejaa drooled over little baby Valin. Vader sat on the sidelines with Obi-Wan, feeling rather out-of-place. And then, only after much cooing, admiring, and a flurry of pictures, they left.

* * *

Obi-Wan felt a good deal more relaxed after they left Mina's apartment complex behind. He was happy for his friend, no doubt about that, but that visit left him feeling uncomfortable. Never in his youth had he imagined that someone he counted as a friend, a fellow Jedi, would be married and have a child. He certainly never dreamed he'd witness it.

A few paces ahead of him Nejaa was nearly skipping as he walked. The air around him was thick with joy and contentment. If it was possible for a solid, wing-less being to 'walk on air' Nejaa probably would be doing it right now.

Next to him Vader also seemed relieved to be out of the apartment and out in the open air. Obi-Wan was mildly impressed with how well the young man handled the whole odd encounter. He managed to smile for the few pictures he'd been pulled into; he nodded and gave polite responses to things Mina said to him, even when the things she said clearly embarrassed or bothered him; and he even held the baby multiple times without complaint. Obi-Wan wondered just how Vader knew how to hold an infant correctly anyway.

As they traversed the city streets on their way back to the Temple, they passed all matter of citizenry. From the wide array of Humans; to the short, dark-furred, rodent-like Drall; to the tall, slender, tan, furry, weasel-like Selonians; to the various other alien species who called Coronet home; they all hurried to get somewhere before the sun set. Obi-Wan imagined that it was almost like being on Coruscant in the distant past, before the entire planet was buried under miles of skyscrapers and industrial complexes.

"Ah, what a day!" Nejaa sighed.

"Mm-hm," Obi-Wan nodded agreeably.

"And I must say, I rather liked it when Mina offered to set Vader up with her cousin from Tyrena." Nejaa smirked.

"Can we not talk about that?" Vader grumbled.

"Fine," Nejaa chuckled, "fine. Though, from the holos I've seen, her cousin's really cute."

"I'm not interested." Vader replied stiffly.

"If you say so," Nejaa smiled.

Obi-Wan swallowed a laugh and shook his head. He seriously doubted that Vader would give in and even consider looking at Mina's cousin, or just about any other girl. Because he suspected that Vader had an interest in the beautiful Nabooan Senator. It was doubtful that Vader in any way actively pursued her, but Obi-Wan didn't think the only reason he stopped by her apartment as often as he did was just to sit on her couch, drink her tea, and listen to her talk.

_The poor boy…_ He sighed. _He just has to get a crush on a highly influential public figure…_

It would've been tricky enough if his charge had fallen for an ordinary girl, but a Senator? Even if Padmé reciprocated his feelings, which he didn't think she did, and they tried to have a relationship, the media attention and scandal it would bring if they were found out would be overwhelming and destructive. It could simply never work. The only thing that Vader could do was what he was doing now, admire from afar and be a friend.

"So, out of curiosity," Nejaa asked, "either of you ever consider having children?"

_Trust a Corellian to ask that sort of awkward question._ Obi-Wan sighed, "No."

"And what about you?" Nejaa turned to Vader who was religiously studying the duracrete under his boots as he walked.

"Well…" Vader stalled for a moment. "A long time ago…when I was younger… Yeah, I used to think about having kids…in that sort of abstract way that a little kid thinks of those adult kinds of things."

"Really?" Nejaa muttered in surprise. "You…you _used_ to?"

"Yeah," Vader shrugged, not looking up.

"So…you don't want any children now?" Nejaa asked slowly. "Why?"

"I…I'd probably just screw them up." Vader sighed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"Oh…" Nejaa trailed off uncomfortably.

"But if you didn't have to worry about 'screwing them up' would you want any?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I dunno…maybe." Vader shrugged.

Things fell silent between them for a while. They just kept on walking back to the Corellian Temple through the bustling streets of Coronet. As they reached the more deserted fringes of the capital the sun began to set.

"What about taking on a Padawan?" Nejaa asked suddenly, the question directed towards Vader.

"What? You're joking right?" Vader snorted. "For one, I'm still just a 'Padawan' so there's no way I could take one. Even if I somehow got 'promoted' there's no way the Council would trust me with a kid. And if for some mysterious reason they did, I'd still screw the kid up. I'm a horrible role model."

"You're not a horrible role model," Obi-Wan scoffed. "Just a less than ideal one."

"Hah!" Vader laughed derisively. "'Less than ideal,' that's cute."

"That's a good deal better than 'horrible,'" Obi-Wan pointed out. "You're being negative again."

Vader didn't reply to that.

As they left Coronet behind, they continued their walk in silence. There was a strip of forest between the edge of Coronet and the Corellian Temple, and the shadows cast by the trees and their leaves made it much darker than it actually was. As they hiked along the forest trail, Obi-Wan took the opportunity to think.

Vader seemed genuinely distressed that he felt unworthy to have children of his own, or mentor and teach a child. He acted calm, brushed the ideas off as ludicrous, but from his behavior, from his voice, from the little emotional leaks seeping through their bond, he could tell that it really bothered him. Whether he'd ever admit it or not, it was clear to Obi-Wan that Vader wanted either a family of his own to belong to, or a surrogate sort of family achieved by the Master-Padawan relationship.

Obi-Wan hoped that someday Vader would gain the confidence to move past his fears of 'ruining' any child he had prolonged contact with. He seriously doubted that Vader would actually 'ruin' anyone. From all that he'd seen of Vader's interaction with children, including the Orphaned Padawan on Jabiim, the young man did well with them. And children generally seemed to like him too.

'_Less than ideal' you may be today,_ Obi-Wan mused, glancing over at Vader as they left the forest for the edge of the Corellian Temple. _But someday I think you'll be decent, even great. All you need to do is to believe that you can…_

_

* * *

_

It was late, but Obi-Wan couldn't go to bed just yet. That was the price he paid in accepting a seat on the Jedi Council. They could call for a meeting anytime and he'd have to do his best to make it, whether in the flesh or by hologram. And that's what he was doing now.

In the tower at the center of the Corellian Temple, just one level below the room where the Corellian Council met, was a communication room with a very secure connection. Here he could set up a connection to Coruscant and the Jedi Council and attend long-distance. After the tech in charge of this room finished setting it up, she left so that Obi-Wan had the privacy he required.

He sat in a chair provided and moments later eleven blue images of the other Councilors snapped to life around him. It was impossible for him to tell how many of the others were attending the session remotely as he was, only those still on Coruscant could tell, but that really didn't matter. After the simple greetings it was all down to business.

"_Too many Knights and Masters we have lost,"_ Master Yoda declared without preamble. "_A solution we must find, and quickly."_

"_There are many Padawans who are close to being ready for the Trials,"_ Master Ti mused. "_Perhaps we could knight them without subjecting them to the Trials."_

"_That's preposterous!"_ Master Rancisis sputtered. "_The Trials are an important tradition. They cannot just be cast aside!"_

"_It would only be temporary, for the duration of the war,"_ Master Ti replied soothingly.

"_If a Padawan can survive the stress of war and succeed, they could well be ready for knighthood. War is its own sort of Trial."_ Master Windu added.

"_But if we do suspend the Trials, even for just some of the Senior Padawans, who is worthy of promotion?"_ Master Koon asked.

"_If we decide to do this, those we consider for skipping the Trials will be considered on an individual basis."_ Master Windu decided.

There was some further debate on the subject, but in the end they agreed to the measure. Several Masters, most notably Master Rancisis, were very unhappy about it, but times were growing desperate and they needed more Knights. And now came the process of nominating candidates for this accelerated promotion.

Several different names came up, including Ki-Adi-Mundi's Padawan, A'Sharad Hett. But they still didn't have enough names. Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he listened and thought.

_I must be crazy,_ he sighed to himself. _This won't go over well, but…_ "I have a suggestion…"


	51. 50: A Great Honor

**Chapter 50**  
_A Great Honor_

Vader dozed on the couch, glad to be home. After spending a few days on Corellia, during which Obi-Wan was busy most of the time with holo-conferences with the Jedi Council, they caught a shuttle back to Coruscant. Now Obi-Wan was conferencing with the Council in person, leaving Vader behind to amuse himself. And what he did to amuse himself was take a nap.

Or at least he tried to take a nap. At the moment he was hovering somewhere between being awake and being asleep. It was a weird sort of hazy consciousness. And it was kind of fun. In a semi-conscious sort of way.

_I hope Artoo's not bored,_ he sighed. During his treatment aboard the Med-Star, Artoo and Geenine had brought his and Obi-Wan's Eta-2's back to the Temple hanger. Since then they hadn't had all that much to do. Vader resolved to visit the little droid later in the day.

_I wonder, _he mused, _why Obi-Wan told me to wait before visiting the tailors and getting more clothes… I'm down to one complete, wearable outfit… I'd kinda like some more clothing soon…_

There was a chime at the door. Vader groaned and rolled off the couch and onto the floor. Then he got up slowly and wandered over to see who it was. And as soon as the door hissed open–

"Force, what happened to your face?" Ferus choked.

"Gee, thanks a lot Ferus." Vader drawled.

"I-I'm sorry but…what happened to…" Ferus gestured helplessly at his own right temple, apparently at a loss for words.

Vader stared at Ferus for a moment. "I got a bug bite." He said flatly.

"H-how big was the bug?" Ferus stammered, wide-eyed.

_Damn Ferus, you're an idiot!_ "I was being sarcastic." Vader sighed in annoyance. "I fell off a cliff."

"Oh," Ferus cringed.

"What do you want Ferus?" Vader grumbled.

"Uh, well, I heard you were back and… Do you want to eat lunch?" Ferus asked nervously.

_What the heck?_ Vader blinked slowly. _It almost sounds like…_ "Are you asking me out?" Vader frowned. _Please say no._

"Huh? What do you mean?" Ferus asked, puzzled.

"Never mind," Vader sighed. _You really are a moron…_ He glanced back inside at a chronometer to gauge the time. "Fine," he shrugged. _It's not like I have anything else better to do. And I'm starting to get hungry._

Ferus gave a little nervous smile and started for the mess hall. Vader followed after him, leaving his cloak in the apartment and shutting the door behind him. As they walked, Vader was aware that Ferus kept stealing side-long glances at him.

"What is it?" Vader asked when he got sick of the weird attention.

"Did you get knighted?" Ferus inquired hesitantly.

"No," Vader snorted. _I'll never be knighted. I'm stuck a Padawan forever. But you don't know that…_

"But your braid is missing." Ferus pointed out.

"I lost it on accident." Vader grumbled.

"Oh," Ferus murmured.

They reached the cafeteria which, despite the noon hour, was rather empty. Most of the Jedi that were present were either very young or very old. All the rest were off world, running the war for the Republic.

After picking up some lunch, Ferus led him to a smaller table were two other Senior Padawans were sitting. Vader recognized them as the two Padawans he didn't really know that he'd last seen in the sparring match with Ferus where he'd accidentally let his whip scars be seen. One was a Human girl with wavy red hair and the other was a dark-haired, silver-skinned male humanoid.

"Hey Ferus," the male alien greeted cheerfully, "who'd you bring with you?"

"Vader," Ferus answered. "I told you I was going to invite him."

"Oh? But…" The silvery one squinted at Vader. "What happened to your face?"

_Everybody and their mother are going to ask me this today, aren't they?_ "I fell down a cliff." Vader grumbled, slumping down into an empty seat.

"Oh my, are you all right?" The red-head asked in alarm.

"If I wasn't all right, I'd be in the Healer Wing." Vader pointed out, twirling a forkful of pasta.

"Right," she swallowed nervously. "So, when were you knighted?"

Vader had the sudden strong urge to bang his forehead against the table top. "I wasn't knighted. I lost my braid on my last mission." He informed her.

Now she really looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. Vader ignored her and concentrated on his lunch. Aside from the pasta, lunch for today consisted of a scoop of violet Garqi rice and half a Nabooan shuura fruit. Very tasty stuff over all.

The other three Padawans at the table eventually picked up their own conversation, ignoring him as he ignored them. Listening with half an ear as he ate, he picked up on a few things. The girl's name was Darra and the male alien's name was Tru. It seemed that they had been friends with Ferus for a long time, though Vader couldn't fathom why. Most of what else they said was gossip and speculation concerning other Padawans.

"You know what I heard?" Darra smirked, a sure sign she felt she had a real juicy piece of gossip. "I heard that A'Sharad was knighted early this morning…without undertaking the Trials!"

"Impossible!" Ferus snorted. "No Padawan has ever been knighted without enduring the Trials successfully."

Vader smirked. "My Master did," he declared smugly.

"What?" Ferus frowned. "No he didn't."

"Yes he did," Vader insisted. "He was knighted after defeating the Zabrak Sith on Naboo."

"He…he was?" Ferus choked.

"Yep," Vader nodded, biting into his half-a-shuura fruit.

"Wow," Darra breathed, sounding awed.

"Impressive," Tru added, sounding…impressed.

Vader shrugged and kept working on eating his fruit. It was a rare honor for his Master to have been knighted the way he was, but it had been earned at a steep cost. He remembered, though the other three either didn't know, or had forgotten.

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention just as he was chewing the last bite of his shuura. He looked up and leaned back to see his Master looming over him. Obi-Wan held Vader's cloak over one arm and, though clearly tired, looked amused.

"Hi Master," Vader greeted.

"Hello Padawan," Obi-Wan replied, oddly looking even more amused as he spoke. "Are you done with your lunch?"

"Yes," Vader blinked, "why?"

"The Council desires your presence." Obi-Wan informed him, holding out his cloak.

_Damn it._ "Okay," Vader sighed, getting up and shrugging on his cloak. "I'm coming."

_Just my luck,_ Vader grumbled as he hurried disposed of his used lunch tray and scampered after his Master. _I just got back today and already they want to see me. What could I have possible done to warrant this? Why me?_

The walk and lift ride up the central spire was totally unremarkable, the same as it always was. Though Vader did notice one strange thing. Obi-Wan seemed deeply amused by this particular summons to the Council, excited even, and Vader found himself unable to gain anything informative through the bond. And that was making Vader highly suspicious.

"Something's going on," Vader muttered warily just before the lift doors chimed open on the floor of their destination.

"What makes you think that?" Obi-Wan asked innocently.

"A feeling," Vader grumbled, casting Obi-Wan a severe, suspicious glance. "That, and you've been smirking the whole time."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan conceded with a chuckle, "but I promise you that it will be something good."

"Alright," Vader sighed dubiously, "if you say so."

"I do," Obi-Wan smiled triumphantly as the ornate wooden doors to the Council chamber swung open.

Strangely, it was dark inside. That never happened. Even if the lights were turned off, the enormous windows could provide more than enough light, especially at this time of day in clear weather. The blinds must've been drawn, though Vader wasn't aware that this chamber _had _blinds.

A gentle shove from Obi-Wan propelled him a few steps into the darkness. Obi-Wan slipped in behind him and vanished as the doors shut, making it completely impossible to see anything in the room. Touching on the Force helped him a bit, he could tell that (surprisingly) all the members of the Jedi Council were present, but he still had no clue as to what was going on.

_What is this? A surprise party?_ He wondered sarcastically as he stood there in the dark. _My Life Day was weeks ago and they don't like me enough to…_

There were twelve distinctive _snap-hisses_ as twelve lightsabers, one for each of the Councilors, flared into life. Green and blue blades, and a single purple one, illuminated the darkness as their owners held them perfectly vertical, their tips pointing to the ceiling. The Masters all had their hood up and their cloaks pulled closed, swathing most of their forms in shadow, leaving only their faces and hands visible in the eerie glow of their sabers. All of them stood by their chairs, Master Yoda stood on his chair while the others stood behind theirs.

When he first came to the Temple, he would've viewed this odd behavior as some sort of ritualistic slaying of a Tainted One or a Darksider. He would've either run away as fast as he possibly could, or prostrated himself before them in a cowardly panic and plead for his pathetic life. But now all he did was stare at it in confusion and utter incomprehension.

_What…the…heck…?_ He blinked and remained frozen by the door, staring. _What are they doing? …If this **is** a surprise party of some sort…it's a really, **really** weird one…_

"Come forward," Master Yoda commanded in his deep, gravelly voice, pointing to a spot less than a foot from his chair with one clawed hand.

Vader obediently did as he was told without saying a word. This whole situation was so incredibly surreal that he wondered if this was some sort of strange dream. _What? Did I pass out into my lunch tray?_

"Kneel," Yoda ordered, his tiny green saber still held vertically aloft.

Again Vader obeyed, dropping to one knee before the tiny green troll. Master Yoda began to speak, but what he was saying was quite impossible. Vader just knelt there as the ancient Jedi spoke some even more ancient formula and moved his saber to almost touch each of Vader's shoulders and the top of his head.

"Rise, Jedi Knight!" Yoda both ordered and proclaimed.

Numb and dazed, Vader complied out of reflex, somehow getting his jelly-like legs to support his weight and keep from swaying too much. All the Masters then raised their lightsabers high over their heads in a sort of salute. Vader just watched with a blank expression, feeling dangerously lightheaded.

The old troll dismissed him, but it took a firm hand on his shoulder and a good tug to actually get him to move. Obi-Wan practically had to push him from behind the entire way back into the lift. And even then, as the lift began to descend, Vader swore it was all a dream. A nightmare, a freaky nightmare. Because there was simply no way that what had just happened, had just happened…

* * *

Obi-Wan was pleased with how well things had gone so far. After much argument and debate, the Council had finally come to a consensus on his motion, and it had been a favorable one. And Vader hadn't had a bad reaction to the traditional ritual. Considering how terrified of the Council Vader had been in the past, he'd worried that the young man would suffer some sort of panic attack when they all lit their lightsabers.

But when he glanced over at Vader, his satisfaction faded into worry. The young man was very pale and shaking. He looked scared and like he might be sick. Waves of anxiety and even fear rolled off him, thick and smothering. This was not the reaction he was used to seeing in those who had just been knighted.

"Are you all right?" He asked softly in concern.

Vader flinched at the sound of his voice, almost as if he'd been struck. "Huh-wha?"

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked again.

"I…I-I dunno." Vader panted, clutching the hand rail of the lift car as he started to sway.

"Hey, calm down," Obi-Wan soothed, grasping Vader by the shoulders. He was startled by Vader's strange reaction and the strength of it. "Calm down. Relax. Why don't we take a walk to the Fountain Room?" He suggested.

"O-okay," Vader swallowed, managing to pull himself together a bit as the lift doors slid open.

"Good," Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly.

He led his younger companion through the hallways towards their goal, the Room of a Thousand Fountains. After making their way through the maze-like entrance-ways, Obi-Wan led his young friend towards a secluded corner he had enjoyed as a young Initiate and later as a Padawan. He came to a nice small shallow pool screened by a small dense grove of Alderaanian Elms and sat down. Obi-Wan pulled off his boots, rolled up his pant legs, and soaked his feet in the cool water before turning to speak with Vader.

"Now, what's wrong?" Obi-Wan asked.

Vader shifted around on the ground, trying to get comfortable. "I…well…" He grasped for some answer to give, when something seemed to occur to him. "You're trying to get rid of me!" He accused.

"What?" Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. "What makes you think _that_?"

"Now that…that I'm not your Padawan anymore…I won't be sent with you on deployments." Vader swallowed hard. "You're getting rid of me."

"No I'm not," Obi-Wan assured him, trying not to laugh. "That's not why you were knighted at all."

Vader's anxious expression now took on an element of pure puzzlement. "Then why? It's not like I'm a real Padawan. And I certainly don't deserve it…"

"You sell yourself short," Obi-Wan snorted. "We would not have agreed to your promotion if you were undeserving of it."

"But…but…" Vader sputtered. "I ran off twice without permission in just a couple weeks… I haven't admitted where I was before Ansion… And I still haven't told you things like my name… How can you knight me?"

"You went without permission, true. But you returned, and you did the Order services in leaving, like ending the threat of Asajj Ventress and rescuing stranded Jedi. While no one is pleased that you continue to remain silent on that little trip you went on pre-Ansion or your continued silence concerning your personal history, we cannot compel you to answer for it and so we can only be patient." Obi-Wan explained.

"However, your talents and skills are sorely needed." He continued. "Part of the reason for your promotion and the promotion of some others is that the Order is in desperate need of more Knights. Too many have died for us to keep going at the rate that we are. And so we are turning to Senior Padawans who have proven themselves worthy of the honor of knighthood and all the responsibilities that come with it."

"Oh," Vader frowned in thought. "The Council thinks I'm worthy?"

"For the most part yes. Some Masters still have reservations about you, most notably Master Rancisis and Master Kolar. But in the end, they all agreed." Obi-Wan replied.

Vader traced his metallic index finger through the dirt. "So I'll be sent off on my own now?" He asked, seemingly resigned to his suddenly lonely fate.

"No, not necessarily." Obi-Wan answered. "You'll still be sent with me most of the time, but on the occasions that you aren't, you'll always be with other Jedi."

"So it really won't be that different?" Vader wondered, looking a great deal more hopeful.

"Exactly," Obi-Wan smiled. "And you won't have to worry about growing out a new Padawan braid." He added, recalling Vader's great disdain for the 'pansy' hairstyle.

"That's right," Vader smirked slightly. "I can grow my hair out again!"

"Yes," Obi-Wan chuckled. "Now are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Vader sighed sheepishly. He was visibly relaxed now and the color was returning to his face.

"Now why don't you go down the tailors and get some more clothes?" Obi-Wan suggested.

"Right," Vader nodded and got up. "Wait…that's why you told me to wait before getting new clothes. You knew!"

"I only knew that it was a possibility that they would agree to knight you." Obi-Wan corrected. "Now remember, while it isn't required, Padawans usually modify their outfits upon being knighted."

"Great, I'll dress all in black now!" He teased as he walked off.

"Sure you will." Obi-Wan snorted disbelievingly.

Vader just disappeared through the trees without any further comment. Now alone, Obi-Wan sighed and enjoyed the feel of cool water on his bare feet. But then a faint frown found its way onto his face.

_He'd better not dress all in black…_

_

* * *

_

As Vader traversed the halls on his way to the tailors to order more sets of robes, the whole day still held the feel of unreality. Ever since he'd accepted the deal offered by the Jedi Council, he had lived under the impression that he would be a Padawan forever until he decided it was time to leave. But now…he was a Knight.

It felt strange, bordering on overwhelming. At first he thought it was some sort of sick practical joke that the Council was playing on him. And then he'd panicked, fearing that it was just Obi-Wan getting tired of dealing with him and casting him aside. He still wasn't entirely sure that he liked the idea of being a Knight, but what's done was done, no going back now. Padawan braids were girly anyway.

Before he knew it, he'd reached the tailors. There were no actual living tailors here, just fabrication droids designed to sew clothes, belts, boots, and a few other clothing accessories. Since he hadn't grown any since his last visit here, there was no need to be measured again, the system remembered his measurements. All he had to do was login in and all the proper dimensions were there along with his current outfit.

Out of habit he almost just entered the number and type of items he wanted. But then he stopped and remembered that he could make some modifications this time. So he leaned against the terminal he was using and started to do some exploring.

After hours of skimming through the available selection of designs and fabrics, he finalized his choices. He kept the same style of boots because he liked them, and he kept the same kind of pants. But when it came to tunics, he changed things up. Losing the gray under tunic, he went with brown instead. And instead of the brown over tunic, he changed it to a dull charcoal black, and the fabric belt was changed to this shade too. He kept the black synth-leather straps, the black belt, and the same dark brown cloak.

Satisfied with his choices, he almost submitted his order. But then he saw something that caught his eye. Intrigued, he investigated further and liked what he saw. Smirking, he altered his order and added a special note. He submitted his choices and when the computer didn't protest anything in it, he left with a smile on his face.

Not feeling like going back to his apartment and having no desire to track Ferus and his pals down, he decided to go to the hanger and visit Artoo. He hadn't seen the spunky little Astrodroid since his ill-fated encounter with…what's-her-name. It would be nice to hang out with his mechanical buddy again.

Vader grinned as he approached his Starfighter and saw the blue-trimmed droid come into view. Artoo was inactive at the moment, having nothing to be doing. But as Vader got closer, the droid's proximity sensors detected his approach and Artoo warbled to life. The little robot squealed in joy when it determined who he was.

"Hey Artoo!" Vader grinned. "How are you?' He asked, hopping up onto the wing so he could peer into the cockpit and see the translation screen.

I'M GREAT! Artoo whistled. HOW ARE YOU? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

"I'm fine Artoo," Vader smiled. "A little rest and a little Bacta do wonders."

WONDERFUL! I WAS WORRIED. Artoo chirped.

"You worried about me? How nice." Vader chuckled.

YES, I FEARED THAT PADME WOULD DEACTIVATE ME IF YOU WERE PERMANENTLY DAMAGED OR DESTROYED. Artoo moaned.

"Oh she wouldn't do anything _that_ drastic." Vader assured the droid. "She likes you too much. At the worst she might switch you off for a few days and then not talk to you."

I SUPPOSE, Artoo conceded.

"Now," Vader decided the change the subject, "what do you think about repainting this thing yellow and white?" He asked, gesturing at the Starfighter.

INTERESTING CHOICE, Artoo warbled. I LIKE IT!

"Good," Vader chuckled. "As soon as I can track down the paint, we'll do it."

YAY! Artoo squealed, spinning his sensor dome around a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

Vader laughed and shook his head at the silly droid's antics. He was about say something else when he heard a familiar voice. Curious, he left the wing of his Starfighter and went over to crouch at the edge of the platform that it rested on. Artoo was equally curious and hopped out of the Astromech socket to roll over next to him.

On the level below them was a Delta-7. Moving around it were three Padawans: Ferus Olin, Tru something, and Darra something-or-other. They were gossiping again and they were just loud enough for Vader to catch every word.

"I heard that Tarzi thinks that he's a spy." Darra commented.

"Tarzi's an idiot." Ferus scoffed. "There's no way that the Council would allow a spy into the fold."

"Right," Tru agreed with Ferus distractedly. The silvery-skinned humanoid seemed more focused on tinkering with some circuitry in the Delta-7.

_Who are they talking about now?_ Vader wondered curiously. _Who's a 'spy?'_

"Well, spy or not, he's definitely not what he appears to be. You're Master proved it, didn't she?" Darra asked Ferus. "Really, who has incomplete records?"

_Aw crap, they're talking about me…_ Vader scowled.

"Perhaps there was a computer error." Ferus suggested. "Maybe a slicer made it into the system and messed with his files."

"What sort of idiot slices into the computer system of the Jedi Order?" Darra snorted. "They'd get caught and punished and the data would be restored."

"Well then what do you think happened to his files?" Ferus asked in annoyance.

"I have no idea." Darra shrugged.

"What do you know then?" Ferus frowned.

"That he's handsome." Darra grinned, blushing slightly.

"What?" Ferus blanched.

"What?" Tru frowned, looking up from his tinkering.

_What!_ Vader choked, clapping his hands over his mouth. **_What!_**

"I said that I think he's cute." Darra squirmed a little, blushing more.

"Darra," Ferus swallowed, looking almost ill.

"That's…a risky thing to say." Tru said carefully. "You know that fellow Jedi are not allowed to get involved with one another."

"I know," Darra pouted. "It's not fair though."

_Okay, this is just creepy. _Vader squirmed. _I'm avoiding her from now on._

"These restrictions are in place for a reason." Tru pointed out.

"It's stupid," Darra scowled. "I'm not going to turn to the Dark Side if I date him."

_That's because I'm not **going** to date you!_ Vader thought fiercely. _I'd date Padmé though…_ He blushed and mentally kicked himself. _Must stop thinking about her like that!_

"But Darra…" Ferus protested feebly.

"Don't 'but Darra' me!" Darra fumed. "One of these days I'll ask him out!" She declared. "Subtly of course."

_Oh man…_ Vader cringed. _I'm **definitely** avoiding her now…_

"Darra!" Ferus choked, looking liked he'd gotten punched in the stomach.

"Darra, please!" Tru sputtered, echoing Ferus' shock.

"I'm out of here!" Darra grumbled, striding off in a huff.

As the fiery red-head receded from sight, Tru, Ferus, and Vader watched her go. Vader was relieved that she was finally leaving. Tru appeared to be deeply worried. And Ferus looked stricken, almost ill.

"Ack!" Vader muttered softly, slinking away from the edge of the platform. "That was not fun."

Artoo seemed to agree with him as the droid followed him, warbling mournfully.

"Oh well," Vader sighed, glancing at a nearby chronometer. "It's getting late, dinner's coming up soon. I'll see you later, okay Artoo?"

The droid whistled an affirmative.

"Great," Vader smiled as he jogged off, "see ya!"

* * *

Obi-Wan sipped at his cup of Atoran tea and contemplated the barely visible trails of steam that wafted off the surface of the dark liquid. It was starting to get late, nearly time to eat dinner. So far, Vader's new clothes had arrived and were sitting by the door, still wrapped in white plastic, but Vader himself had yet to appear.

While he prided himself on being a very patient person, Obi-Wan had to admit that his curiosity was killing him. He really wanted to see what Vader had chosen to change about his robes. But he also dreaded that it would be all black like Vader had joked he'd pick.

_Going all black isn't going to inspire much hope among the Councilors,_ Obi-Wan sighed. _In fact that will probably make things worse. Somehow…_

The door hissed open and Vader entered, nearly tripping over his packages. "Ooh, it came!" He grinned. Obviously his anxiety about the change in his rank had faded, or at least was momentarily forgotten.

"Yes it did, now please get it away from the door and into your room." Obi-Wan replied dryly.

"Yes Master," Vader grinned cheekily, gathered the bulky packages in his arms, and scampered into his room.

_And now to wait,_ Obi-Wan mused, sipping at his tea. _Will it be black? Or will it be…something else?_

Obi-Wan was patient as always as he awaited the unveiling of his Padawan's – well, ex-Padawan now – new attire. But when nearly a half an hour passed by without Vader appearing, he started to get worried. What could've possibly happened to him in his room?

_(Are you still alive in there?)_ Obi-Wan sent worriedly.

_(Yeah, just having a little trouble with…something. Be out in a few minutes.)_ Vader promised.

_Trouble with '…something?'_ Obi-Wan frowned. _What did he mean by that? And better yet, do I really want to know?_

As promised, a few minutes later Vader left his room with a fresh cloak obscuring what he was wearing. Obi-Wan's worried expression grew even more worried when he caught the mischievous glint in his friend's eye. _I've got a bad feeling about this…_

"Well, let's see it." Obi-Wan sighed, turning in his chair so that he was facing Vader.

Vader grinned widely and theatrically removed his cloak. Obi-Wan swallowed a groan as he took it all in. _Oh blast…_

It wasn't _all_ black. But it was blacker than his last outfit. He supposed he should consider himself blessed that it wasn't any worse than it was.

"It's not all black," Vader shrugged, getting a tad defensive as he picked up on Obi-Wan's disapproval.

"Yes I know," Obi-Wan agreed wearily. "It's just black_er_."

"Yep," Vader grinned, obviously pleased with himself. "And look, I found this neat glove!" He gleefully held out his right arm, displaying a long black leather glove that appeared to be padded and had three silver buckles to ensure a snug fit. "Getting it on right was tricky," Vader admitted, "but now no one will be staring at my shiny metal hand."

"Interesting," Obi-Wan murmured, partly impressed, and partly wondering about Vader's strange fashion-sense. "Though have you considered what your clothes imply?"

"What? That I like the color black?" Vader blinked in puzzlement.

_Obviously not._ "Never mind." Obi-Wan muttered and returned to his tea.

"No, what?" Vader frowned, taking a seat at the table and pouring himself his own cup of tea.

"The Council, and perhaps some others, will read more deeply into your choices. They might see it as a lingering affinity for the Dark Side." Obi-Wan explained.

"That's stupid and untrue." Vader scowled. "I just happen to like black. I think I look good in it."

"It's what they might think," Obi-Wan shrugged.

Vader grumbled incoherently and glared into his teacup. They didn't speak any more as they worked on their own cups of tea. Only when their cups were empty and everything was cleaned up and put away did they resume speaking.

"Care to join me for dinner?" Obi-Wan asked in a dry joking tone.

"Of course," Vader snorted, pulling his cloak back on.

"All right then," Obi-Wan smiled faintly, "off to dinner then."

They left the apartment and headed off to the cafeteria. Obi-Wan swallowed a laugh as he realized that Vader was still followed a step behind and to the side of him like all Padawans were required to do when going anywhere with their Masters. The practice was to show others that the Master was the one in charge and the Padawan was a subordinate there to learn and observe.

"You don't have to walk so far behind me anymore." Obi-Wan chuckled.

"What do you mean?" Vader asked, completely missing what he was doing.

Obi-Wan struggled not to laugh. "Here," he grabbed Vader's arm and pulled him forward so that they were even with each other. "That's what I mean."

"Oh," Vader blinked. Then he scowled. "Stupid habit," he grumbled, "it's all your fault."

"It's my fault?" Obi-Wan snorted. "I didn't come up with the traditions, I just taught them to you."

"Hmph," Vader grunted, "I still say it's your fault," he grumbled stubbornly.

Obi-Wan only shook his head. "Suit yourself."

Vader made no reply and moment later they'd entered the cafeteria. As they went through the line to pick up their food, Obi-Wan smiled as he noted some other Jedi giving Vader second looks as they noticed his new clothing and his lack of a braid. Vader himself was oblivious to this attention as he was focused solely on getting his food, just like he usually was around mealtime. If he was hungry enough, Vader would probably miss seeing a Reek stampeding through the cafeteria.

_The more things change,_ Obi-Wan chuckled to himself, _the more things stay the same…_


	52. 51: The Hero With No Fear

**Chapter 51  
**_The Hero With No Fear_

Vader awoke the next morning firmly believing that most of yesterday had been a dream. A weird, almost terrible, sort of dream. But when he dug through his drawers and closet for clothes, he was startled to find his new blacker robes. Shaken, he gathered up the necessary clothing and went to take a nice long shower.

As the hot water cascaded over his skin, Vader flinched as his prosthetic went into a tingly fit. Since it was still so new, it would probably do this off and on for about a month or so until he completely adjusted to it. At least it wasn't as bad as it was with his first replacement hand.

_So, I wasn't dreaming all of that…_ Vader mused as he washed his hair. _I really was knighted…_

It still didn't feel real. He wondered if it ever would. And he wondered if he even wanted to. Shivering despite the hot water, Vader finished up and stepped out of the shower.

He dried off, shaved, dressed, brushed his teeth, and took the time to study his reflection in the mirror. The scar on his temple made him cringe a bit when he saw it, but he really wasn't all that worried or upset about it. But something else _did_ bother him. Squinting, he leaned closer to the mirror and studied his hair. It was starting to get long again, which was good because he intended to grow it out again, but…

_It's getting…kinda curly,_ Vader scowled in confusion. _Why is it doing that? Is it because it's still kind of wet?_ He wondered, running his hands through his hair.

This wasn't the first time he'd noticed this. Several times in the war, when he wasn't as able to keep his hair trimmed as regularly as before, he'd noticed that his hair had the odd tendency to curl. He'd always convinced himself that he must be seeing things, but now he wasn't so sure.

_Why the heck is it getting curly? It's never been curly before. My hair's always been straight. _Vader frowned worriedly at his reflection, crossing his arms over his chest. _Ugh, as if I wasn't enough of a freak already…_

Shaking his head, he picked up his glove which he hadn't put on yet, and left the refresher. He wandered over to the couch and started working on putting on his new glove. It was a tricky process as he had to very carefully tuck his tunic sleeves into the glove so that it didn't bunch up uncomfortably and then tighten each of the three silver buckles so the glove fit snugly. With practice he might be able to get it on quickly, but right now it was almost an ordeal.

Now that his glove was on, he stood up and slipped into the tiny kitchen. Obi-Wan was already there, waiting for the tea kettle to get the water boiling so he could make the morning tea. The Jedi Master leaned against the countertop with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest, calmly waiting.

"Hey," Vader greeted, self-consciously running his hand through his hair.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan replied, not opening his eyes.

"What's the tea for this morning?" Vader asked, though he really didn't care.

"I was thinking of Blue Dantaari tea." Obi-Wan answered.

"Oh," Vader mumbled. He chewed his lip, trying to order his thoughts. "Master?"

"You don't have to call me 'Master' anymore." Obi-Wan pointed out. "What is it?"

"Once a Padawan is knighted, they're supposed to move into their own apartment, right?" Vader asked anxiously.

"Generally yes," Obi-Wan replied, finally deciding to open his eyes. "But if you don't want to, you don't have to. With the war and all, we're never here for very long anyway." The tea kettle whistled and Obi-Wan removed it from the stove. "It's not like I plan to take on a new Padawan and need the room open." He added.

"Okay," Vader sighed in deep relief.

"Any other questions?" Obi-Wan chuckled as he pulled out the teabags from a cupboard.

"Um," Vader ran his hand through his hair again. "Do you know if it's normal that my hair seems to be…getting…curly?"

"Curly?" Obi-Wan frowned, squinting. "It doesn't look curly to me."

"You sure?" Vader frowned.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded.

"I swear," Vader muttered, "every time it gets long it starts looking curly to me."

"It must be your imagination." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Why would I imagine that?" Vader wondered.

"No idea," Obi-Wan shrugged and passed Vader a cup of the bluish tea.

Vader mutely accepted the tea and sipped at it, grimacing slightly at the faintly bitter aftertaste. Obi-Wan didn't appear to mind the taste at all, calmly sipping his own tea with a completely neutral expression on his face. Silence reigned until the tea ran out.

"So what are we going to do today?" Vader inquired curiously.

"Well, unless a major emergency flares up, I have the day off, so I thought we'd celebrate your promotion." Obi-Wan smiled.

"Are we going to Dex's?" Vader asked hopefully.

"Yes, but not just yet." Obi-Wan nodded. "First we will go to the cafeteria and get a proper breakfast."

"We can't go to Dex's for breakfast?" Vader pouted.

"No, we're going to Dex's for lunch." Obi-Wan decided. "Now come along."

"Yes Master," Vader sighed, grabbing his cloak and shrugging it on.

"I seem to recall a time when you used to call me 'Obi-Wan.'" The Jedi Master grumbled as he headed to the cafeteria.

Vader simply grinned and followed Obi-Wan out the door. He fell into his usual position behind his Master, only to have Obi-Wan grow irritated and pulled him forward a bit. Vader cringed sheepishly and tried to stay in this new position, but it felt so strange. He was used to following his Master, not walking alongside him like some kind of equal.

He relaxed a bit when they entered the cafeteria and he smelled breakfast. Today the offered breakfast was some kind of scrambled eggs, some kind of bacon, and some kind of fried potatoes. This was one of Vader's favorites. He gleefully loaded up his tray and followed Obi-Wan to a small table.

But just as he had settled down and lifted his fork to dig in, something bad happened. A shadow fell over his tray; a chill of foreboding hit him. Darra had found him.

"Hello," she greeted with a smile, "is this seat taken?" She asked politely, nodding at the open seat next to Vader.

_Oh…no…_ Vader grasped for some reason, some excuse, to tell her yes, that seat _was_ taken. But Obi-Wan betrayed him.

"No it isn't." Obi-Wan told her.

"Oh good," she grinned and cheerfully slipped into the open seat.

_I…am going…to die…_ Vader swallowed a moan and did his best to hide his dismay and keep his expression neutral. He was in no way interested in her, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings or make an enemy of her.

Obi-Wan glanced around the cafeteria and seemed to see someone he knew. "I think I'll leave you two alone." He decided, picked up his tray, and left.

Vader stared after him, shocked and horrified. _He just…he just…he just **ditched me! No!**_

"Good morning," Darra smiled. "Enjoying your breakfast?"

"Yeah," he answered slowly, desperately searching for some reason to flee, looking for someone to save him.

"Personally I prefer pancakes." She sighed. "What's your favorite?" Darra asked, leaning in a bit closer.

Vader leaned a bit back. "Um, this." He replied nervously, pointing at his current breakfast.

"Hmm," she hummed, studying his face with a little too much interest. "I hear that Tarzi thinks you're a spy."

_Oh Force not this again!_ "That's ridiculous," Vader frowned.

"That's what I thought," Darra agreed.

Vader turned his focus to his breakfast and did his best to demolish it as quickly as possible. A mouth full of food would make it impossible for him to answer any question she asked right away. And as soon as he finished his food, he could excuse himself and hopefully ditch her.

"So what's your favorite color?" She asked curiously.

_Aw kriffing hell…_ "Black, blue, and yellow, in that order." He replied in a monotone.

"Hmm, what's your favorite thing to eat?" She inquired.

"_Chaavi_ soup and breadsticks." Vader answered stiffly.

"I don't think I've heard of that, what is it?" Darra wondered.

"It's a spicy soup." Vader shrugged. _Try it, it'll burn your tongue off so I don't have to listen to you anymore…_

"Is it any good?" She asked.

"Yeah, I think so." Vader muttered.

"I guess I'll have to try it then!" She smiled brightly.

_Yeah, you do that…_ Vader fought not to shudder as he felt the weight of her interest in him increase. He kept powering through his breakfast, desperate to escape her. But then the Force seemed to take pity on him and he was saved… Sort of.

"There you are!" Tru exclaimed in relief, appearing at the side of the table with Ferus at his elbow. "We couldn't find you."

"Oh, sorry," Darra shrugged, totally disinterested in her friends' presence.

"Tell us next time you plan on disappearing," Tru frowned, taking a seat across from her at the table.

"Sure," Darra shrugged again. "Now, do you like to fly?" She asked Vader, pointedly ignoring both Tru and Ferus who had taken the seat across from her target.

"Yes," he answered tersely.

"What sorts of things do you like to fly?" Darra inquired politely.

"Anything really," Vader shrugged.

She continued with her questions for what felt like an hour. She asked about his likes, dislikes, and opinions. Vader gave short, but honest answers, praying she'd run out of questions soon. It was annoying, but at least she didn't ask any tricky questions like what his real name was or about his questionable records.

"What–" Darra started to ask yet another question, but was thankfully interrupted.

"You're pestering him," Ferus accused nervously, picking at his eggs.

"I am not!" Darra snorted.

"Yes, you are. Let him eat in peace." Ferus frowned.

"I'm not!" Darra scowled. "Hey Vader, tell them I'm not–" She stopped abruptly as she turned to see that Vader wasn't there anymore.

Taking full advantage of her distraction, Vader had picked up his tray and fled the scene. He wasn't finished with all the food on his plate, but he'd eaten enough. Now all he had to do was make sure she didn't find him again, and find Obi-Wan to strangle him.

* * *

Obi-Wan had spied his old friend Garen and so left Vader alone with the girl, who he presumed to be an old classmate of his, in favor of catching up with his old friend. Garen was quite glad to see him and they spent more time talking than eating. And things would've continued on that way, perhaps for hours, but they were interrupted. 

A shadow fell over Obi-Wan's shoulder and he glanced up to see Vader there. The young man gave him the dirtiest look he'd given Obi-Wan in years before taking a seat beside him and burying his face in his crossed arms on top of the tabletop. Obi-Wan stared curiously at Vader and Garen open and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find something to say.

"What was that about?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Never leave me alone with her again." Vader grumbled, his voice muffled by his arms and the tabletop.

"Why? What did she do?" Obi-Wan asked curiously.

"She wouldn't stop asking me questions." Vader growled. "Really stupid questions. Like what my favorite color is."

"Perhaps she just wished to get to know you better." Obi-Wan suggested.

"Well I don't want her to know me better," Vader muttered.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"She bothers me." Vader sighed, finally picking his head up, now resting his chin on his fist.

"How so?" Obi-Wan asked.

"When we were in classes together she never once spoke to me and now all of a sudden I'm the most interesting person on Coruscant." Vader snorted. "I find that to be rather strange, almost creepy."

"Perhaps she didn't notice you back then." Garen suggested, entering in to the conversation.

"Probably," Vader admitted, looking uncomfortable. "But…yesterday I overhead her talking about me, and she expressed some…unusual…interest in me."

"Really?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"Yeah," Vader shuddered slightly. "Seriously, never leave me alone with her again. Can we go somewhere else now?"

"All right," Obi-Wan sighed, "we'll go." He got up and Vader eagerly joined him in standing. "Garen, it was nice talking to you."

"It was nice talking to you too." Garen grinned. "Have a nice day you two."

"Good bye." Obi-Wan smiled and left the cafeteria.

Vader was right behind him, barely taking the time to wave a quick farewell to Garen in his hurry to escape. He also fell back into his habit of following behind Obi-Wan at his shoulder. Obi-Wan shook his head and corrected him again as they exited the cafeteria.

"Really, I thought you disliked having to follow me around in my shadow." Obi-Wan sighed as he again pulled Vader even with him.

"I did," Vader muttered, "but it's habit now. Where are we going now?"

"For a walk." Obi-Wan replied calmly.

"To where?" Vader asked curiously.

"You'll see," was all Obi-Wan decided to tell him.

"I'm a little sick of surprises right now." Vader grumbled sourly.

"Well this surprise shouldn't be as traumatic as the last one," Obi-Wan teased with a chuckle.

Vader grumbled something incoherent under his breath, but otherwise made no reply. They walked in silence through the halls of the Jedi Temple and soon exited the massive ancient building. As Obi-Wan led Vader through the endlessly busy streets of Coruscant he wondered how well Vader would take his surprise.

_There are two ways he can take this,_ Obi-Wan mused as he walked. _He'll either be happy about it and perhaps even thank me later. Or he'll just act happy and then when we leave he'll express his interest in strangling me…_

* * *

Padmé leaned back in her desk chair and sighed heavily. The stack of report folios and data disks on her desk was towering, just looking at it threatened to give her a migraine. There was just no end to the paperwork and reports. For every one she got through, two more seemed to appear. 

War was just one enormous terrible mess. When the Republic suffered many losses, there were reports detailing just what assets the Confederacy had claimed and all the forces they'd lost. When the Republic won, there were reports of what new things they had acquired from the Separatists and how to rebuild reclaimed Republic systems devastated by Confederacy occupation. No matter what happened, they were reports about it that had to be read and analyzed.

_No rest for the weary,_ Padmé yawned, stretching out her cramped muscles and joints. The Senate would not be in session today, but that didn't mean she had the day off. _No vacations, no breaks, not until my desk is clear, my duties fulfilled, and my conscience satisfied._ Padmé rubbed a hand over her face, trying to scrub away her weariness, before straightening in determination and leaning forward again to continue examining reports.

"Milady?" Moteé hesitantly interrupted.

"Yes Moteé, what is it?" Padmé replied.

"Some Jedi have arrived." Moteé informed her.

"Oh?" Padmé blinked. "Who are they?"

"Master Kenobi and…" Moteé hesitated, looking unsure. "I think Padawan Vader."

"You think?" Padmé raised a questioning eyebrow.

"If he is Padawan Vader, he looks significantly different than the last time I saw him." Moteé explained.

"Hmm," Padmé hummed thoughtfully, intrigued. "Thank you Moteé." Padmé gladly abandoned her cluttered desk in favor of playing hostess to her Jedi guests.

She found them sitting in the common room. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was indeed here, sitting on the couch and sipping some tea that Sabé had just finished pouring for him. Next to him sat the less identifiable Jedi.

He certainly appeared to be Vader. But there were several striking differences. His hair was slightly longer than she ever remembered seeing it and there appeared to be a very vague sort of curl to it. His robes were different, a good deal blacker than the black, brown, and gray combination she was used to seeing, and he wore a single black glove on his right hand, a hand that didn't appear to be the skeletal prosthetic that Vader possessed. And there was a startling scar running vertically along his right temple, just missing the corner of his eye.

Padmé found she wasn't the only one confused at the mysterious young Jedi's identity. Sabé and Moteé were staring at him as well. And if Ellé was working today, she'd probably stare too. Only Obi-Wan wasn't staring, and that was because he knew exactly who he'd brought with him.

"Good morning," Padmé greeted, pushing aside her pondering on the young darkly-clad Jedi.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan replied, smiling pleasantly.

The other Jedi nodded, giving a nervous half-smile and a little wave.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Padmé asked curiously, taking a seat across from them.

"Well, we just returned to Coruscant yesterday and I thought we'd stop by and see how you were doing." Obi-Wan explained cheerfully, a strangely mischievous glint in his eye.

"Is that all?" Padmé murmured disbelievingly, distractedly accepting a cup of tea from Sabé.

Obi-Wan didn't answer her. Instead he cast an amused glace over at his younger companion. The younger Jedi shot Obi-Wan a pleading expression to no avail.

"I, um," he stammered anxiously. Any doubts as to his identity were erased at the sound of his voice. "I was knighted." Vader answered sheepishly.

It took Padmé a moment to process this bit of information. "Really?" She gasped in excitement.

"Yeah," Vader nodded, looking embarrassed.

"That's wonderful!" Padmé grinned in girlish delight. If there hadn't been a caf table and several feet between them, she would've leapt forward and hugged him.

"Congratulations!" Sabé added with her own warm smile.

Vader shrugged uncomfortably. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Padmé smiled, finding his shy embarrassment over the whole situation cute and endearing.

The newly minted Knight just squirmed more and blushed slightly at her attention and Padmé did her best to smother a giggle. Before poor Vader could get even more embarrassed and flustered, there was a faint sound of the comm chime as it leaked in from another room. Padmé almost rose to answer it but Sabé beat her to it, hurrying from the room to answer.

"I hope that's nothing important." Padmé sighed. If it was, she wouldn't be much of a hostess and her friends would probably end up leaving.

"I didn't think the Senate was in session for most of this week." Vader remarked tentatively, his tone indicating confusion.

"Oh it isn't," Padmé replied. "But just because there isn't a session coming up immediately doesn't mean there isn't work to do."

"Really?" Vader blinked.

"Yes, there are reports to read and write, meetings to arrange and attend, and other things like that." Padmé explained. "Really there never seems to be enough hours in the day to get it all done."

"Oh," Vader cringed. "Are we taking up too much of your time?" He asked anxiously.

"No, no," Padmé laughed, "not at all. In fact your visits give me a good excuse for a break."

Sabé returned from answering the comm with a sour look on her face. Padmé felt a rising sense of dread as she looked eyes with her friend. But she had to ask…

"Who was it Sabé?" Padmé inquired.

"It was Senator Vorski." Sabé answered. "Again."

"Oh," Padmé sighed wearily. _Oh no, not him again…_

Senator Josef Vorski of the Voshi System was a man she couldn't stand. He was a dirty old man, a shameless womanizer, and probably a pervert. If he wasn't so influential and a fellow Senator she would make it perfectly clear that she was not interested in him.

But he _was_ influential and wasn't above using his power to inflict petty revenge and blackmail those who defied him into compliance. He could easily hamper the flow of pharmaceuticals from Voshi, making her people suffer, if she outright refused him. So she had to dance around him, never explicitly saying no, but certainly never saying yes.

And the worst part of this mess was, the more she tried to avoid him, the more he pursued her. He seemed to see her actions as playing hard-to-get and so he stepped up his attempts to court her accordingly. It was like he simply couldn't understand that she didn't want to sleep with him, like the thought of her not being interested in him had ever crossed his mind.

"Who?" Vader asked, yanking Padmé out of her thoughts.

"Senator Josef Vorski of the Voshi System," Padmé replied. "And all you ever need to know about him you can find in the tabloids."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan frowned, "I think I may have heard of him. Isn't he supposed to be some sort of playboy?"

"Yes, he is." Padmé scowled in disgust.

"If you dislike him so much, why don't you tell him to stop calling?" Vader asked hesitantly.

"I would if I could, but it's not that simple." Padmé sighed. "If I offend him, he'll find some way to make my life more difficult. It's what he's infamous for. That and hopping in bed with anything that's young, female, and highly attractive."

"Ugh, what a creep!" Vader scowled. "Are you sure you just can't tell him off?"

"Yes, it's safer to just wait it out." Padmé explained. "Eventually his short attention span will kick in and he'll find some other female who's younger and more willing to hop into bed with him." Padmé paused to take a sip of tea. "So I have to ask, how did you get that scar?" She asked Vader curiously.

Vader shifted uneasily in his seat. "Well, I, um, kind of…got blown off a cliff."

"O-oh my goodness!" Padmé sputtered, a hand rising to her mouth. "Are you–"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Vader hurriedly assured her. "I heal quick," he smirked. "I even got a new hand."

"Really?" Padmé blinked, trying to calm down from the shock of his admission. "Can I see it?"

"Um, sure," Vader blinked.

He shrugged off his cloak, giving her a better view of his new version of Jedi robes. The glove he wore on his right hand was long, almost going up to his elbow, and it had three shiny silver buckles on it. He loosened each clasp and then pulled the black leather glove off, revealing a gray durasteel prosthetic. It lacked the golden color and skeletal appearance of his old one and she knew he appreciated that.

"Better than the old one," she remarked. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's much better." Vader grinned.

"Wonderful," Padmé smiled.

Vader blushed a little and put his glove back on. Or at least he tried to. It appeared that he couldn't tuck his sleeve in quite right and he scowled in rising frustration.

Padmé took pity on him and set her teacup aside so she could help him. She stood up and walked around the table and batted his hand away so she could fix his sleeve. He was startled at her sudden proximity and sat perfectly still as she worked. When she finished, she stepped back and admired her handiwork.

"There, how's that?" She inquired.

"It-it's fine," he stammered. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied, returning to her seat. Seeing that the young Knight was a bit flustered by her attention, she decided to give him some time to recover. "So Obi-Wan, how long is your leave this time?"

"A little less than a week," Obi-Wan replied.

"That's not very long," Sabé commented with a frown.

"No it isn't, but the Order is stretched thin as it is, they can't afford to give us long breaks in between deployments." Obi-Wan explained.

"Oh," Sabé murmured, drifting off into her own thoughts.

"What are your plans for your leave?" Padmé asked.

"Well my time will most likely be taken up by Council meetings and…well…meetings." Obi-Wan shrugged. "What will you do with your time?" He asked Vader.

"Um…I don't know." Vader shrugged. "I usually just make things up as I go along."

"Why am I not surprised?" Obi-Wan asked rhetorically in a dry voice.

"Hey," Vader pouted, acting hurt.

"Behave now boys," Padmé giggled, "no fighting."

"Yes milady." Obi-Wan replied seriously.

Vader's response was a bit…odd. "Yes mother," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking.

Padmé blinked for a moment in surprise, then burst out laughing. Somehow she never expected a Jedi to tease her that way. Maybe it was because Jedi never knew their mothers.

"You're a funny little boy!" She giggled teasingly.

Vader snapped his head up and stared at her with a very strange expression on his face. Before she could decipher it, it faded back into a sulky look. "I am _not_ a little boy," he pouted.

"I know, I'm sorry," Padmé sighed, sobering a little.

"I forgive you," Vader replied graciously.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at his former Padawan's antics. "So Padmé, how are things going on Naboo?" He asked, firmly changing the subject.

"Well, according to the last letter from my mother…"

* * *

Vader sighed in a mixture of relief and regret as he and Obi-Wan left Padmé's apartment building behind as they headed for lunch at Dex's Diner. He was relieved to have avoided making too much of a fool of himself in Padmé's presence. Yet he regretted having to leave so soon. 

_At least I'm getting free lunch at Dex's,_ he consoled himself. _And I can visit Padmé again later. Maybe tomorrow…_

As they rounded a corner on the way to Coco Town, the old industrial district were their goal was located, Obi-Wan ran right into a very stupid death-stick dealer. The humanoid alien, utterly oblivious to the face that the bearded man who had almost collided with him was a Jedi, offered to sell him some of his illicit merchandise. Vader smothered a snicker as Obi-Wan used the Jedi mind trick to convince the dealer that he didn't want to sell drugs anymore, he wanted to go home to his family and start his life over.

_What an idiot,_ Vader grinned as they moved on. It was funny, every time they ran into a weak-minded drug dealer or other type of petty criminal (which at times was shockingly often) Obi-Wan would always pull the same mind trick on them. _He's such a softy. He should convince them to turn themselves into some law enforcement station, but he sends them home to rethink their lives instead…_

_I'm glad I'm not weak-minded,_ Vader decided. _Otherwise Obi-Wan might've sent me home to Mom to 'rethink my life choice of being an almost-Sith.' Being a Jedi is much more fun and rewarding…except for the whole almost-being-blown-up-every-time-I-go-on-a-mission thing. That part's kind of annoying._

The further they walked from the up-scale Senatorial District, the darker and grungier the buildings became. Some buildings began sporting splotches of graffiti and others were decked in gaudy neon signs. But it was still relatively clean and bright here. A few levels down, it was another story, but that wasn't where they were going.

_It's strange,_ Vader mused. _The last time Padmé called me a 'funny little boy,' I was actually small, but wasn't trying to be funny. But this time I'm not little, though I was trying to be funny. Weird…_

A few blocks away from their goal, a scuffle broke out on the crowded streets that they just couldn't manage to avoid. Vader was shoved aside and crashed into a stand that sold magazines, tabloids, and some news-faxes, knocking several stacks of the things down. Embarrassed, he hurriedly helped the irritated stand owner, a rather obese Sullustan, gather up the scattered papers. However, just as he was replacing the last dropped copy of the _Coruscanti Times_, a picture caught his eye.

_Who is that,_ he squinted, studying the slightly blurry picture. _Wait…wait a minute… That-that's me!_ His eyes widened in recognition as he determined the picture was taken sometime during the deployment just before Muunilinst._ What the heck am I doing in a news-fax?_

Really, his picture had no business being in a news publication of any kind. He was always alert for skulking reporters and avoided them like the plague. Fame and notoriety was not something he particularly craved. Sometimes he didn't mind, like when he won the Boonta Eve Classic when he was nine, but most of the time he felt it was just one big crazy hassle that he could easily do without.

Scowling, he started the read the article that went along with the picture to see just what the heck this was all about. However he was interrupted by the stand owner who insisted that if he was going to read it, he'd better by it. Annoyed, Vader fished a few credits out and paid for the thing so he could read it unmolested.

_…MYSTERY JEDI? While reporting on T'ignah, this reporter came across a most interesting Jedi Padawan. He seemed to hide when other reporters appeared seeking pictures and interviews, yet this reporter managed to snap this single photo of the elusive young hero. For in spite of his camera-shyness, this Jedi is truly brave when it counts._

_ This reporter watched as this particular Padawan single-handedly turned the tide during a surprise Separatist assault. He rallied the troops and directed them in a series of brilliant maneuvers that crushed the advancing droid army. Without his amazing, bold leadership, the Republic's line would've surely folded._

_ Yet, when the reporter sought to interview this Padawan, he seemed to vanish into thing air. And when this reporter tried to seek information from other Jedi concerning this mysterious Padawan, they either claimed not to know who he was, or merely refused to speak of him. This reporter couldn't even learn his name._

_ So who is this young Jedi? Where else has he served? What else has he done? Who is he? This hero with no fear?…_

Vader was horrified beyond words. All his hiding from reporters and avoiding attention had been for naught. And now there was this hideous article and blurry picture – on the front page no less! – of a respected and widely circulated news-fax. He was doomed.

"What are you reading?" Obi-Wan asked, materializing out of the crowd.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He was too busy bemoaning his fate.

Obi-Wan peered over his shoulder and skimmed the article curiously. "Oh…oh my!" He laughed. "Oh-oh I'm sorry!"

"My life…is officially…over." Vader moaned.

"It's not that bad," Obi-Wan chuckled. "It could very well be worse."

"Ugh," Vader groaned, hanging his head in despair.

"Relax," Obi-Wan smiled. "Now hang onto that, we'll frame it and then we can laugh at it later when this whole mess is over."

"Frame it?" Vader sputtered. "I'd rather burn it!"

Obi-Wan only shook his head and gently removed the slightly crinkled news-fax from Vader's tense grasp. "Come now, let's keep going," he chuckled.

Vader glared at the offending news-fax that Obi-Wan had taken from him, but did as he was told. While the article really pissed him off, there really wasn't anything he could do about it. He might as well forget about it and try to enjoy himself at lunch.

_Hero with no fear…what sort of crap is that anyway? _


	53. 52: Dancing, Wine, And High Society

**Chapter 52**  
_Dancing, Wine, And High Society_

He was _really_ getting tired of waiting. The chase had been fun for a while, but enough was enough. It would be tonight.

A lot of thought had gone into this night. He'd generated the perfect plan. It would not fail.

He glanced up at the wall chrono to check the time and then examined his reflection in a mirror. Satisfied with what he saw, he draped his very expensive cape over his shoulders and snapped the bejeweled clasp around his throat. And then just before he walked out his door, he picked up a tiny vial filled with white powder and carefully tucked it into his sleeve.

_You will be mine…_

_

* * *

_

Vader sauntered back in the apartment, tired and sweaty, but satisfied. He'd just finished thoroughly wiping the floor with Ferus during a practice match and was quite pleased with himself. And now it was time for a well deserved shower.

_Today has been a good day,_ he decided as he enjoyed the feel of the hot water on his skin.

Late yesterday he and Obi-Wan had arrived back in the Temple after months away to get a nice long well-deserved break from the war. He then took the opportunity to sleep in this morning, staying in bed almost until noon. And since waking up, all he'd done was eat and practice with Ferus. Oh, and Darra wasn't around, so he didn't have to worry about avoiding her, which was a definite plus.

Hopping out of the shower, he toweled dry and dressed in some fresh robes. Once he got his right hand into its glove and getting his belt and black leather arranged properly, he peered into the mirror to work on his hair. After not cutting his hair at all for nearly eight months, it was halfway to his shoulders… And curly.

He'd given up wondering why the heck his hair was suddenly curly. So what if it had always been stick-straight before? It was curly-wavy now and he'd just have to deal with it.

_I wonder if Mom'll recognize me now,_ he mused thoughtfully as he convinced his damp hair to part neatly.

It'd been lucky that she'd recognized him last time, being all beat-up and half delirious and him being fully-grown. Now with a scar, a prosthetic right hand, and curly hair she could very well think he was some stranger instead of her long-lost son the next time they saw each other.

_Oh well,_ he sighed, _I'll just have to wait and see what happens…_

He stepped out of the refresher and made himself comfortable on the couch. There was an entire evening to kill, and he intended to do it with the holo-vision. He picked up the remote, activated the screen, and started flipping through the channels of the Holo-Net.

Before he could find anything he felt like watching, Obi-Wan returned from his endless meetings with the Council. He seemed unhappy about something, Vader could practically feel it. Something was making him uneasy; there was something that sparked dread in him.

"What's wrong?" Vader asked curiously.

"The Council has found another mission for us." Obi-Wan sighed.

"What? Already?" Vader choked. "Where are we going?"

"Not too far," Obi-Wan sighed wearily. "We'll still be on Coruscant, actually."

"Oh?" Vader prompted, confused but intrigued.

"The Senate is throwing a charity ball to raise funds and awareness for the growing refugee problem." Obi-Wan explained. "They desire some Jedi representatives to attend. Originally Master Windu was slated to go, but some last minute schedule conflicts have made that impossible. So we have won the honor of attending instead."

"Oh," Vader blinked. Then he realized exactly what attending this ball would entail. "Oh," he frowned. "When is it?"

"Tonight," Obi-Wan sighed deeply.

"Tonight?" Vader sputtered. "Seriously?"

"Yes, it's short notice, but there really isn't anything we can do about it but get ready." Obi-Wan shrugged, heading to his room to apparently freshen up.

"All right." Vader groaned, switching the holo-vision off. He rolled off the couch and headed for his own room to retrieve his cloak and boots.

_Well,_ he sighed, glancing at his alarm-chrono, _at least I squeezed my shower in before the big dance…_

_

* * *

_

Padmé sat perfectly still as Ellé put the finishing touches on her elaborate hairstyle. Tonight there was a charity ball being held to raise awareness of and funds for refugees. Since she was a key member of the Senate committee that was tasked with dealing with refugee issues, it was practically required that she attend.

She really didn't want to though. With a war going on causing untold death and destruction she didn't think it was appropriate for there to be a ball or gala of any kind. She felt her time would be much better spent working than playing petty little social games around the dance floor with her colleagues.

But no one had asked her opinion on the matter. They wanted to stage an elaborate ball under the guise of charity, so they did it. All she could do was show up, chat for a while, and then escape at the first acceptable opportunity.

Ellé tightened the last hair tie, finishing Padmé's fancy tangle of a braid. After making sure there were no subtle mistakes in the styling, Ellé stepped back with a restrained nod of approval. Padmé nodded her own satisfaction as she peered into her mirror.

"Thank you Ellé," Padmé murmured appreciatively as she stood up from her stool.

She smoothed some wrinkles out of the skirt of the dress that she had chosen to wear to the charity ball. It was a black strapless number that, aside from being strapless, was a good deal less risqué than many of the dresses she'd worn to balls and galas in the past. It wasn't backless, it didn't have a plunging neckline, and it wasn't some short skirt that showed off her legs. The bodice was tight and form fitting while the skirt was a good deal looser and covered in a dash of glitter and sequins. And to keep her bare arms warm in the slightly chilly weather, she wore thin black gloves that were so long they were almost sleeves. She felt it was elegant, simple, and the black could be viewed as a color of mourning as she continually mourned the death of peace in the Republic.

Carefully adjusting the chain of the Japor necklace, Padmé did one last check in the mirror to make sure her make-up was in order. Ellé had been against her wearing the wooden necklace, but Padmé overruled her. She felt it nicely complimented the simplicity and style of her dress, and she saw it as a sort of lucky charm. She'd need all the luck she could get to get through this night without any major problems.

"Are we ready?" Padmé asked, as she neared the lift.

"Yes," Ellé replied.

"All ready here." Sabé added, passing Padmé the dark velvet cape that would protect her from the chilly night wind.

"Good, let's go. I have no interest in being 'fashionably late.'" Padmé sighed as the three of them stepped into the lift.

There was no conversation as they descended to the lobby where Captain Typho was waiting for them. There really wasn't anything to talk about. The whole week had been just a mess of stress so far and though Padmé wasn't looking forward to the ball, she hoped it would help her employees unwind a little. Sabé at least found some entertainment in giggling at some of the outrageous outfits some Senators found trendy.

As soon as they exited the lift, Captain Typho appeared to escort them to their ride and then to the location of the ball. The one-eyed security chief helped the women into a speeder being guarded by another security guard, making sure they didn't catch their long dresses on anything. And then he hopped into the driver's seat and drove off.

Padmé sat in the back seat, wedged between Sabé and Ellé, and stared down at her neatly manicured nails. _Two hours is the shortest time I can stay,_ she decided as she did some calculating in her head. _Two hours and then I can come back home…_

_

* * *

_

Vader gulped anxiously as he followed Obi-Wan into the Disha'nah Hotel. The soaring skyscraper was an upscale hotel for the rich intergalactic traveler. It sported many amenities, including an enormous grand ballroom. For tonight, members of the Senate had rented out the ballroom to hold their charity event.

He had attended political functions with Obi-Wan before. But none of them had ever been so big. His previous experiences were with small feasts and balls, single planet affairs. This was a Senate function, a grand affair that involved representatives of all different species from thousands of different worlds. The potential here for embarrassing himself was very great.

"Relax," Obi-Wan advised, "we only have to stay for a few hours and then we can excuse ourselves."

"Great," Vader sighed, nervously folding his arms inside his sleeves.

"It'll be fine," Obi-Wan assured him as they climbed the stairs to the floor where the ballroom was located.

"If you say so," Vader muttered dubiously as they approached the massive wooden double doors that led to the charity ball.

A pair of expensive servant droids owned by the hotel, probably used as butlers or bellhops or something under normal circumstances, awaited them at the doors. They bowed silently before slowly opening the massive heavy doors. What Vader saw on the other side caused his jaw to drop.

The whole massive was elaborately beautiful in itself. The walls were painted a golden creamy color and covered in detailed white-painting wood carvings. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the high arched ceiling, casting little dots of light and tiny rainbows everywhere as they lit the room. Tall smooth white marble columns ran along the edges of the room, supporting the ceiling. And the floors were soft carpet around the edge, and an intricate pattern of different types of marble for the dance floor in the center of the cavernous room.

The decorations for the charity ball only enhanced the elegant ballroom. Gold and scarlet banners of fabric were wound around the gleaming white columns. The same color also decorated the table cloths of the small round tables that flanked the dance floor and the uniforms of the hotel employees tapped to play waiter for this event. Even the drinks offered seemed to match the theme of scarlet and gold, with blood colored red wines and golden yellow white wines.

In short the whole place looked amazing, and he hadn't even really taken in the various guests yet. Obi-Wan, however, didn't seem overly impressed. When Vader didn't recover himself fast enough, he gently pulled him inside so the poor droids could shut the door.

"Close your mouth before an insect decides to fly in." Obi-Wan snorted softly.

"Sorry," Vader swallowed, clamping his mouth shut.

"Now all you have to do is smile, nod, and answer any questions as simply and politely as possible." Obi-Wan coached. "And absolutely no swearing."

"Yes Master," Vader nodded distractedly.

While the room and decorations were simple yet elegant, the occupants of the room weren't. They were a mixture of nearly every known species in the galaxy and they were dressed in twice as many colors. Every costume was unique and almost always over-the-top gaudy. Clothing was one of the many ways that Senators showed off just how wealthy and influential they were, and this was the clearest example of that that Vader had seen yet.

Struggling with all his might not to stare at some of the more outlandish dresses and suits sported by the Senators and their aides, Vader followed Obi-Wan's lead as they wove through the noisy crowd of chattering politicians. At first they went largely unnoticed as those they passed were too engrossed in their conversations, drinks, or snacks to see the Jedi in their midst. But after a while some Senators picked up on the representatives of the Jedi Order's presence.

Vader felt swallowed up by the colorful crowd, but Obi-Wan seemed to know exactly where he was going. Trusting his former Master to take him somewhere they were supposed to go, Vader did his best to keep up and keep from getting separated. After carefully slipping around a particularly tight knot of people, Vader suddenly saw their target.

He'd never met the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic before. He only recognized him from the brief glimpses he'd caught of the political leader while channel-surfing the Holo-Net. But now it seemed he was going to meet the leader of most of the civilized galaxy, whether he really wanted to or not.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was an older Human. A first glance of the man gave the impression of ancient fragility and passivity, an aged but friendly grandfather. But a closer observation revealed his bright intelligent eyes and a smile that oozed charisma. He wore rather quiet robes of crimson and dark gray, making his outfit one of the simplest and drabbest in his immediate vicinity. He was speaking with the blue horned Chagrian, the Vice Chair of the Galactic Senate, Mas Amedda, but the instant he caught sight of the approaching Jedi he put his conversation with Amedda on hold to greet them.

"Master Kenobi!" Chancellor Palpatine smiled, holding out his hand for Obi-Wan to shake. "What a pleasant surprise. I was expecting Master Windu to be here tonight."

"He sends his regrets, but some last minute conflicts prevented him from coming." Obi-Wan answered apologetically, shaking the Chancellor's hand.

"That's quite all right, I understand." Palpatine nodded gravely. "Now who is this that you've brought with you?" He asked, turning to regard Vader.

"He is a former apprentice of mine who so graciously agreed to accompany me here tonight." Obi-Wan explained, conveniently omitting Vader's name.

"Ah, I see," Palpatine smiled. "I am most honored to finally meet you." He greeted, reaching out to shake Vader's hand.

_You're 'most honored' to meet **me**?_ Vader blinked, but he politely shook the Supreme Chancellor's hand. The instant his gloved prosthetic touched the other man's hand an intense chill hit him in the stomach. His face remained frozen in a politely neutral expression, but inside he wanted to cringe and recoil. It could just be an attack of nerves, with such a crazy crowd he wouldn't be surprised. But he wasn't sure that's what it was…

Obi-Wan and Chancellor Palpatine continued speaking for a little while longer while Vader remained hovering off just to the side. Even though he wasn't touching the man any longer, Vader couldn't shake the lingering cold feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Obi-Wan didn't appear to be bothered at all as he conversed with the politician, but he was very good at disguising his feelings when necessary, so it was nearly impossible for Vader to tell just what he felt about the Chancellor.

Finally their conversation came to an end. Vader fought not to squirm as they exchanged farewells. He wanted to get away from this man. And maybe enjoy some wine.

"It has been very nice speaking with you again Master Kenobi." Palpatine gave a warm friendly smile. "You are welcome to call on me anytime." He invited. "And so are you." He added, addressing Vader.

Vader only bowed politely and respectfully in response, a small but polite smile pasted firmly on his face. _Why would I ever visit you? I don't even know you, or like you! Besides, it's not like I really have time right now to visit strange politicians…_

"Farewell Chancellor, may your evening go well." Obi-Wan said with a polite bow.

The Jedi Master then drifted away and Vader eagerly followed. The instant he was out of the Chancellor's sight and shielded by several loitering Senators he let out a slight shudder. He decided that he didn't like the Supreme Chancellor and he never wanted to deal with the man again.

* * *

Padmé fought to keep from slumping in her seat. She hadn't even been here an hour yet and she felt worn down. Sometimes she forgot just how exhausting it was to constantly smile and say nice polite things, especially to people she disliked. 

But it was necessary. If she was rude or insulting, she could hurt not only herself or her causes, but Naboo's reputation and relations with other worlds as well. She was a representative for her home-world and she would do her best to keep her world's image a favorable one. Naboo had enough enemies with the Trade Federation and its grudge stemming from the blockade just over twelve years ago.

A brief but genuine smile found its way onto her face as she caught a glimpse of Ellé enjoying the company of an exotic-looking young man who she believed to be an aide to Malé-Dee, Senator for Uyter. Ellé, and her colleague Moteé, were always so serious, almost painfully professional. It was nice to see her relaxing a bit and having some fun. Now if only Moteé was here and doing the same thing…

Padmé sighed and took a small sip from the glass of red wine that she'd been nursing since she arrived. So far she'd only managed to drain about half of the glass and if she kept her pace up the glass would probably last her most of the night. That was fine with her, she never drank much anyway.

Casually scanning the crowd she sought to find the other Handmaiden she brought with her to the ball. Sabé had vanished some time ago in search of snacks and still hadn't returned. Padmé wasn't particularly worried about her friend yet, but she was a bit bored and lonely at the moment.

_Sometimes there isn't enough time in the day, and other times there's too much time,_ Padmé snorted. _I wish this party was over so I can go home. My patience is just shot this week…_

There was a sudden commotion behind her and she turned just in time to see a well-dressed Human try to avoid a waiter and trip over a chair leg to crash into her table. He didn't break the table, but he did jostle it enough to knock her half-filled wineglass to the floor, spilling what was left of its contents on the carpet. Padmé cringed as the embarrassed Human passed the dropped wineglass to the waiter he'd almost run into and turned to her and apologized. She forced her face into a pleasant expression as she recognized who it was.

"My deepest apologies," Senator Vorski stammered, flustered. "I'll get you another one." He promised, hurrying off before she could protest.

_Why does he have to be here?_ Padmé moaned to herself. _I know he's not here because he wants to help any refugees. …Please don't let him be here just to bother me._

A few minutes later Vorski returned, carrying two full wineglasses. He cheerfully passed her the red wine while he seated himself at her table and sipped at the glass of white wine he'd grabbed for himself. With supreme effort, Padmé swallowed a cry of frustration and smiled a little at him instead.

"Senator Amidala it's so good to see you again." Vorski greeted. "I'm terribly sorry about ruining your drink." He apologized again, wincing.

"It's all right," Padmé assured him, taking a tiny sip of the replacement wine to show that all was forgiven. A brief involuntary frown flitted over her face as she caught a strange bitter aftertaste to her drink. _Funny, my last glass didn't taste like this…_

"Yes, well, as I said, I'm very glad to see you," he repeated with a slightly awkward smile. "I was starting to get worried since you haven't returned any of my calls."

"I'm terribly sorry," Padmé replied, "but I've just been so very busy lately…"

"You must have!" Vorski exclaimed. "But I wouldn't think a simple casual conversation would take very long."

"Well I'm on several different committees and with all the work that comes with that…there's just never enough time in the day to get things done." Padmé explained.

"Wow," Vorski blinked, impressed. "Do you ever have time for a break? A vacation?"

"No," Padmé shrugged, taking another sip of her wine. _This definitely tastes funny._

"Never?" Vorski sputtered, appalled.

"I haven't had the opportunity yet, there's simply too much for me to do." Padmé replied.

"My dear, you don't _wait_ for an opportunity, you _make_ the opportunity." Vorski snorted, taking a long sip of his own wine. "Otherwise you'll work yourself into an early grave."

Padmé forced back a disgusted frown. "With things the way they are in this galaxy, I wouldn't dare just skip off for a week or two. I could miss something important. And even if I did somehow get talked into taking a vacation, I'd never be able to relax."

"Really?" Vorski frowned. "Maybe if you had the right company you could find a way to unwind." He suggested hopefully, a flicker of lust flaring briefly in his eyes.

Padmé tossed back a large sip of wine to hide a disgusted grimace. "Perhaps when the war ends I'll find some time to get away."

"But that could still be years away." Vorski replied.

"Then I'll just have to wait years." Padmé shrugged, unconcerned.

Her answer struck Vorski speechless for a little while. "But…but how…could you stand that? I would go made without at least one short vacation a year!"

"Well I find my work very rewarding." Padmé responded. "I really don't feel the need to walk away from it."

Vorski shook his head at her and gulped some of his wine. "You are something else. If all the Senators in the Senate had half your drive the war would've been resolved last year."

"Hmm, I wish it was." Padmé sighed sadly. "I'm really tired of hearing about yet another planet suffering, more people dying, because of this dreadful war."

"Yes," Vorski muttered disinterestedly. "It really is terrible. I sincerely hope the war doesn't find its way to my doorstep." He took a swig of his wine that nearly drained his glass.

Padmé nodded in agreement. "I certainly don't want the war to find its way to my home either. We've already suffered a taste of war. If the Clone Wars reach us, I fear we will be destroyed."

"Well that shouldn't happen," Vorski interjected optimistically. "We've had many successes as of late, the war is starting to get under control. With any luck it should be over soon, perhaps within the year."

"Maybe, maybe not. War is a fickle thing, difficult to predict, if not impossible." Padmé warned.

"True, very true." Vorski conceded. "But let's not worry about that now. Tonight we should forget about the war for the evening." He smiled charmingly at her and patted her hand as it laid on the table.

Padmé removed her hand from the table and rested it in her lap. "Yes, this charity ball is not about the war, but about the refugee problem," she agreed.

"So I've heard that Naboo continues to accept large numbers of refugees. How do you manage that?" He asked with curiosity that Padmé was certain was feigned.

"Well…" As Padmé launched into an explanation of Naboo's refugee management practices, she was sure he wasn't listening. Just from the way he stared at her, like she was some exotic dessert, made her skin crawl. But she continued, she had no real choice in whether or not she could stop.

_Sabé, would you hurry up and get back here?_ Padmé prayed, wishing that she had some Jedi mind power to summon her Handmaiden to her without speaking. _I don't want to be stuck alone with him all night!_

* * *

Obi-Wan swallowed a weary sigh as he continued to make his rounds with the politicians. With very few exceptions, he found politicians to be some of the most morally degenerate beings in the galaxy. He'd met thieves with more honor and moral integrity than he had Senators. 

But unlike thieves, Senators had a veneer of legality to gloss over their vices and shortcomings, and money to protect them from most of the consequences of their transgressions. They could get away with things that most criminals wouldn't dare attempt. And the public was either too apathetic to care, or remained blissfully unaware, holding their public servants up on a glittering pedestal of perfection.

He knew better though. And that made it so much more difficult to smile and be polite to most of them. But that was what his duty was for tonight, to positively represent the Jedi Order to the rest of the Senate, amuse the Senators for a while, and then disappear.

In the Republic's past, Master Qui-Gon had assured him once, the Senators truly had the public's best interests at heart. However in the present, that was rarely the case. Now Senators were more consumed with gathering personal power and wealth using any means necessary, including corruption and graft. In fact the entire war had been sparked by insatiable greed.

When he'd spied on the Separatist meeting on Geonosis, before he'd been captured, he'd heard all about their motivations for seceding from the Republic. The major players in the Confederacy's ruling council, the Trade Federation, the Commerce Guild, and the Banking Clan especially, were tired of their profits being held back by Republic legislation. They wanted the freedom to make as much money as they wanted and they weren't afraid to ditch the Republic to be able to do that.

And the Republic didn't want to lose some of its richest members and suddenly have some competition in the galaxy. True, they claimed that the only reason for war was because the Confederacy was dangerous and they wished their chunk of the galaxy to remain intact instead of splintered. But Obi-Wan suspected that the reasoning for war was almost purely to do with money than anything else.

After carefully skirted around the very obese Rutian Twi'lek Senator of Ryloth, Orn Free Taa, and his two Twi'lek girls he tried to pass off as political aides, he looked for a shadowy corner to hide and catch his breath. Vader, who was still managing to follow him, probably could use a break too. And he was the one who saw an escape route of sorts.

"Hey look, the snack table." Vader murmured in Obi-Wan's ear, tilting his head towards a gap in the crowd that did indeed give a glimpse of the party's refreshments.

Obi-Wan nodded and headed in the indicated direction. He wasn't all that hungry, but was rather curious to see what was being offered. Considering the wide range of species and cultures present, there could be some very strange fare laid out for the guests.

His imagination wasn't disappointed. The snack table ran the length of the back wall of the immense room and was decked with trays of delicacies that ran the full spectrum. Some things were cooked, some didn't appear to be cooked, and there were a few that definitely weren't cooked as the 'delicacies' had to be kept in sealed jars to keep them from scurrying away. Obi-Wan found the spread to be impressive, even for a Senate party.

"Is all of that edible?" Vader wondered quietly as he stared at it.

"It depends on your species." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Oh," Vader glanced down the long table. "Hey…" He perked up and strode down along the table, his eyes fixed on someone in particular.

Curious, Obi-Wan followed Vader for a change. Vader's goal was a simply dressed young woman, wearing a relatively simple forest green and black dress. Her brown hair was tied up in a complex bun and since she had her back mostly to him that's all he could really see of her. Vader slipped right up behind her, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hi Sabé!" He greeted, causing her to squeak in surprise and whirl around to face him.

It was indeed Sabé, attending the ball as Padmé's Handmaiden and official assistant. The shocked and slightly confused expression on her face made Obi-Wan chuckle slightly as he hung back to watch. Then a flicker of recognition sparked in her brown eyes.

"Vader?" She asked, sounding a little uncertain.

"Yes," Vader smiled cheerfully.

"Oh my goodness!" Sabé grinned. "Look at your hair! It's gotten so long…and it's curly!" She was so fascinated with his 'new' hairstyle she even reached up and played with it for a moment. "You look so handsome now." She remarked, playfully winking at him.

"Thanks," Vader smiled shyly, blushing a little at her compliment.

"You're very welcome," Sabé replied. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with Obi-Wan and we're the Jedi representatives for tonight." Vader answered, shrugging a bit uncomfortably.

"Really? Obi-Wan's here too?" Sabé blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, he's right there," Vader informed her, helpfully pointing Obi-Wan out.

"Master Kenobi!" She choked in surprise. "Hello!"

"Hello Sabé," Obi-Wan smiled, moving to stand beside Vader. "How are you?"

"Oh I'm fine," she shifted a little anxiously, "how are you two?"

"I'm very well." Obi-Wan replied.

"I'm glad to be back on Coruscant." Vader added. "I thought they were going to have us skipping from one front to another forever."

"Well thank the Gods they didn't." Sabé declared. She opened her mouth to say something else, but closed it and turned away to stare at something that had caught her eye. "Oh my…"

"What?" Vader frowned, trying to follow her gaze.

Obi-Wan did the same, wondering what had Sabé so surprised.

"Look at Ellé!" She breathed. "She's dancing with a man! A cute one!"

"So?" Vader inquired.

"She never has fun at galas. She just hovers around Padmé and is so serious the whole time." Sabé explained. "This is amazing!"

"Oh," Vader blinked, obviously not finding this event as ground-shaking as Sabé did.

Obi-Wan supposed Sabé's enthusiasm must be a female thing, because he didn't get it either.

Sabé calmed a bit and grew thoughtful. "If she's out there…then Padmé's all alone….hmm." She glanced over at Vader. "Why don't you go find Padmé and keep her company?" She suggested. "We picked a table over there," she lifted her hand and indicated a direction. "She'll be very glad to see you."

"Oh, um, okay." He shrugged and did as she suggested, striking out in the direction Sabé had pointed out and leaving her and Obi-Wan behind.

"You sent him away?" Obi-Wan asked Sabé curiously. "I thought you liked him."

"I do," Sabé assured him, "but why hog him all to myself? Padmé likes him too and she'll be very glad to see him. She really needs some cheering up."

"Why is that?" Obi-Wan frowned. "Are the debates in the Senate getting that bad?"

"Well, yes," Sabé shrugged, "but that's not it." She chewed her lower lip nervously before moving in a little closer to reduce the chance of being eavesdropped upon. "Senator Vorski has been after her worse than usual lately. And it doesn't help that she feels this decadent ball is inappropriate while we're engaged in a full-scale war."

"I see," Obi-Wan nodded.

Sabé nervously fiddled with her gray stone pendant before adding something else. "Part of the reason I sent Vader off to find Padmé is because Vorski could be here. Even if Ellé and I were with Padmé he would always come around and bother her, but when Captain Typho would appear he'd run off. I was hoping that if he is here somewhere that Vader's mere presence will be enough to keep him away."

"If it's getting that bad, why doesn't Padmé report him?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"She would, but the problem is he hasn't done anything illegal yet." Sabé sighed in frustration. "And he can get out of stalking charges because all he's done is place a lot of comm calls and show up at every party and function that she has. He probably doesn't have to bribe anyone, he can talk his way out of it easily. He is a Senator after all, who's to say he can't attend Senate sessions when she is? It's his job and it's her job."

"Right," Obi-Wan sighed. "Perhaps she should risk it and be more explicit in refusing his advances?"

"You know," Sabé sighed, folding her arms over her chest, "if this keeps up, I think she just might."

"I hope she does if his attentions make her so miserable." Obi-Wan remarked. "He might do something mean to her in response, but it'll only be temporary."

"Yeah," Sabé agreed, "hopefully."

"So," Obi-Wan decided to change the subject, "what drew you away from Senator Amidala's side?"

"I came to investigate the food…" Sabé trailed off to regard the endless table of exotic snacks. "And I'm still trying to figure out what I'm meant to eat."

Obi-Wan chuckled at that. "Well milady, perhaps I may be of some assistance." He offered cheerfully. "There is a possibility that I might recognize a few things."

"Oh good, I feared that I'd just have to go hungry." Sabé grimaced as she glanced at a platter topped with what she saw as a pile of unappetizing slime. "Please, lead the way to the edibles Master Jedi."

Obi-Wan struggled not to laugh out loud. "This way then…"

* * *

Padmé, despite the oddly bitter aftertaste, had consumed nearly a third of her wine, mainly taking sips to hide her frowns and grimaces from Senator Vorski. She would've thrown the wine away in an instant, but she didn't dare insult him and so she kept it. She couldn't wait until he left so she could get rid of it without him seeing. 

Right now he was telling her all about his palatial estates back on his home-world of Voshi. She was certain that he was exaggerating a great deal, but he wasn't making it _all_ up with how rich and influential he was. Padmé just let him talk to his heart's content, not allowing any of her disgust or disbelief show on her face.

"And then there's my other vacation home…in…" Vorski abruptly trailed off and stared at some point above her right shoulder.

Padmé turned to see what he was looking at and looked up…and up…to see a familiar Jedi towering over her. Vader was darkly handsome in his mostly black Jedi attire and his looks were further enhanced with his new, longer, _curly_, hair. His expression was one of puzzlement as he regarded the slightly pale and suddenly silent Vorski.

"Is something wrong sir?" Vader asked with polite concern when Vorski just kept staring in shock.

Vader's deep voice jerked Vorski out of his stunned stupor, though he remained a bit frazzled. "No. No, I'm fine." He assured the Jedi Knight. "I just remembered," he pulled back his sleeve and examined his ridiculously expensive platinum wrist chrono, "that I promised a colleague that I'd meet with him here. And I'm late so…if you'll excuse me Senator Amidala, I shall return to you later."

Before Padmé could bid him farewell, he was gone, vanished into the other milling Senators and their favored staff members. She blinked a few times as she processed Vorski's sudden departure. And then she grinned in deep relief.

"Who was that?" Vader frowned, settling into Vorski's abandoned seat.

"That was Senator Josef Vorski." Padmé replied, allowing a tiny frown of distaste to briefly appear on her face.

"The one that was bugging you before?" Vader asked.

"Yes," Padmé sighed.

"Well, I was going to apologize for scaring him off, but…" Vader cast a dark look in the direction Vorski had fled in. "Now I don't think I will."

Padmé laughed a little. "Good! Because I'm grateful that you did. I didn't think he'd ever shut up and leave me alone."

"What a creep." Vader shook his head in disgust.

"Yes he is," Padmé agreed, taking another sip of her wine, then grimacing as she was reminded of its odd taste.

"What's wrong? Bad wine?" Vader asked.

"I don't know, but this wine…it definitely tastes odd." Padmé frowned and was about to wave a waiter over to get rid of it.

"Here, let me see." Vader offered, taking the glass from her. He looked at it critically for a moment, sniffed at it curiously, and then tossed the entire remaining two-thirds of the wine back in one tremendous gulp. After swallowing, he tilted his head thoughtfully to the side as he considered the flavor. "Tastes fine to me." He shrugged.

Padmé stared at him open-mouthed for a good minute before bursting into a fit of giggles. "I can't believe you just did that!" She squealed.

"You can't believe I just did what?" Vader blinked in confusion.

"You don't drink wine like that!" Padmé giggled. "You sip at wine. You don't toss it all back like a shot of Corellian whiskey!"

"Oh…" Vader cringed, squirming in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Padmé assured him, still giggling a little. "Just keep that in mind for next time."

"Right, got it." Vader nodded, committing this important piece of information to memory for future use.

"Good," Padmé smiled. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"Keeping Vorski away," Vader replied cheerfully.

"That's not what I meant," Padmé sighed.

"I know," Vader grinned. "I'm here, along with Obi-Wan, to be the Jedi representatives for the evening."

"Obi-Wan's here too?" Padmé blinked. "Where is he?"

"He stayed with Sabé at the snack table." Vader told her. "There's some crazy stuff over there…"

"I bet," Padmé snorted. "She's still over there, huh?"

"Mm-hm," Vader nodded.

"Well hopefully she finds something soon." Padmé remarked as she passed a nearby waiter the now empty wineglass.

"With all the stuff that was there, it could take a long, long time." Vader replied.

Padmé leaned back in her chair and relaxed. Then the music changed to a different song as the last one ended. She hadn't really paid attention to the music that was piped through the well-disguised speakers. Lacking a date, she really hadn't paid attention to the music or the dancing going on. Now she recognized her favorite Nabooan waltz. It was very pretty, very old, slow, and long, so she could really enjoy it.

"Oh I love this song!" She exclaimed.

"Really?" Vader blinked, tilting his head as he focused in on the music he'd been ignoring most of the night. "You like this fancy dance music?"

"Yes, this is my favorite waltz." She grinned. And then an idea took root in her mind. "Do you know how to waltz?"

"Ballroom dancing? No." Vader shrugged. "Why?"

"Come on, I'll teach you!" She grinned widely, hopping up from her seat.

"Huh?" He choked, eyes growing wide. "I-I don't need to know how to dance!"

"Of course you do," Padmé smiled. "Jedi are considered special ambassadors and someday when you visit a planet you could be expected to attend a ball and dance with a girl." When he still didn't get up, she tried a different approach. "What's more embarrassing? Me teaching you how to dance now? Or you being required to dance someplace later and not knowing how?"

Vader shifted uncomfortably as he thought this over. "Oh…okay…" He sighed, very reluctantly getting up.

"Thank you," she beamed, taking him by the arm and towing him out to the dance floor. "Now relax and we'll have fun!"

"If…if you say so," he gulped anxiously.

"I do say so, Master Jedi." Padmé stated imperiously, briefly reverting to the old court accent she'd affected during her days as Queen Amidala of the Naboo.

Vader gave her an odd look and she let out a few un-queenly giggles. Shaking her head at him she brought him to the edge of the dance floor and guided his hands to their proper positions. She couldn't help but grin at his increasingly anxious expression as she then began walking him through the basic waltz.

But as they got started, he actually did very well. He caught onto the beat of the music quickly and kept with it. And he never came close to stepping on her feet. Not once, in all the dances they ended up dancing…

* * *

Sabé struggled to suppress the rowdy butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach as she led Obi-Wan back to the little table Padmé had chosen for the evening. Padmé had selected it for its location in a quiet corner near one of the decorative columns. It was a place to slink off to and hide when a break was needed from the strain of being friendly and polite to everyone grew to be a bit too much. 

Right now, Sabé was hoping to use it, and Padmé, to get a slight break from Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. With his focus off her and on Padmé, she could relax a little, catch her breath. Being around him, alone, and acting normal was a strain that she wished a break from.

However when they reached the table, Padmé was gone. Only their capes remained, marking the table as theirs. Sabé forced back her disappointment and dismay as she looked around for her missing employer.

"Now where did she go?" Sabé muttered through clenched teeth.

"I do believe," Obi-Wan said after a moment, "that she has gone dancing with Vader."

"What?" Sabé blinked. "Really?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan smirked, "I can feel his trembling nerves from here."

"Oh my," Sabé giggled. "The poor man, trapped on a dance floor and held captive by a beautiful beguiling Senator."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan agreed gravely, an amused twinkle in his stormy-colored eyes.

Sabé fixed her eyes on the deep scarlet tablecloth as she sat down, swallowing hard to try and force her heart back into its proper location inside her chest. _Stop it Sabé! _She scolded herself sharply. _Grow up and get over it!_

"Is something wrong Sabé?" Obi-Wan asked with polite concern as he seated himself across from her.

"No," Sabé smiled reassuringly, "everything's fine." She wasn't sure if he believed her, but he didn't ask any further.

"So tell me, how is life on Coruscant there days?" He asked.

"Well, it's colder, winter is almost here." Sabé sighed. "Not that you can really tell. It doesn't snow here like it does on Naboo. And work just gets harder and harder. I can't wait until the war ends and I can take a vacation from all the paperwork!"

"I think all of us could us a good vacation." Obi-Wan agreed.

"And…well…that's all I've really had time to notice." Sabé shrugged.

"What about the Senate? Any new scandals being whispered about in the gossip?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Probably, I really don't pay attention to any of that drivel unless Padmé or a friend of hers is mentioned." Sabé grumbled disgustedly. "I'm really getting tired of dealing with the Senate."

"Then why not quit?" Obi-Wan asked.

Sabé stared at him, trying to determine if his question was at all serious. "And abandon Padmé to the cheerless Moteé and Ellé and the sharks in the Senate? I think not." She snorted. "Padmé has been my closest friend since our days in school together. What sort of friend would I be if I just up and left her one day and ran off home for my own selfish reasons?"

"You would certainly not be the good friend that you are." Obi-Wan replied. "Padmé is most fortunate to have a friend as devoted and loyal as you are."

Sabé bit her lip and struggled to control her blush. "You flatter me Master Kenobi." She murmured uncomfortably.

"I do my best to speak the truth as I see it." Obi-Wan countered. "I only use flattery in business."

"Oh?" Sabé mused. "You resort to flattery?"

"Yes, on occasion." Obi-Wan shrugged. "Sometimes when dealing with stubborn, arrogant, narcissistic individuals it is necessary to stroke their egos a bit to get your way. It's the best way to deal with most Senators in my experience."

"You flatter Padmé?" Sabé frowned.

"Oh no, never," Obi-Wan shook his head. "I respect her too much to ever do that."

"Good," Sabé declared. "Now Master Kenobi, you're traveled to countless worlds and had numerous adventures so far, correct?" She asked. At his nod, she continued. "I've always meant to ask…do you have any interesting stories you'd be willing to share?"

He appeared surprised at her change of topic, but quickly turned thoughtful. "Of course I do." He told her. "Now let me see," he murmured, stroking his beard in thought. "There was this one time…"

* * *

Vader was probably grinning like an idiot, but he didn't really care at the moment. Once, when he was very small, his mother had told him a story, some fairy tale about a princess, and she described the formal dancing with a dreamy sort of smile. He'd been appalled that men would do something as girly as dance – and with icky old girls too! – and he swore to himself that he'd never ever do it. But now he didn't mind breaking that childhood oath one single bit. 

Dancing, formal dancing, wasn't really too terrible-awful. Especially if his dance partner was Padmé. The waltz wasn't a difficult dance, rather simple actually. And it was a wonderful excuse to get to touch Padmé in places he wouldn't dare at any other time. Holding her hand he maybe could get away with outside of dancing, but touching her hip? Oh no, no, no, _no_!

_This is great!_ Vader grinned as he twirled Padmé in a spin. _I should come to these parties more often!_

As the current song, a lively Corellian waltz, came to an end, they both stopped and waited for the next selection to come on. However, before the music started, Vader sensed something amiss. He studied Padmé's expression closer and noticed that she looked kind of tired, or perhaps a little ill.

"Are you all right?" He asked with concern.

"Yes, I-I just have a little headache, that's all." She replied with a slightly strained smile. "I'm fine."

But then she swayed a bit in his arms, he knew she was fooling only herself. "We've been at this for a while, let's go sit down and take a break." He decided and led her off the dance floor.

"But I'm fine," she protested weakly. "I want to keep dancing."

"You can always talk me into dancing again later." Vader assured her. "Let's just sit down for a few songs until then."

"Oh all right," Padmé sighed.

Vader smirked smugly in victory as he gently towed Padmé back to her table. After a little weaving around other Senators and guests, they reached their destination. But the table now had two new occupants, Obi-Wan and Sabé.

They sat across the table from each other deep in conversation. Sabé leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she listened intently to whatever Obi-Wan was saying. Obi-Wan had made himself comfortable in his chair, sitting just like he sat in his Council chair with his legs crossed.

"…That sounds like an interesting place." Vader caught Sabé saying. "So what happened next?"

"Well, since we had a few days before we had to do anything, we explored the settlement where we were stationed." Obi-Wan replied. "We found this interesting little place called _Starak's Hole_ and–"

"And I thought we swore never to speak of that episode ever again." Vader interrupted as he stepped up to Obi-Wan's shoulder with his arms crossed over his chest.

Obi-Wan blinked and stared up at Vader with something of a sheepish expression. "Ah yes…that-that's right." He grinned weakly. "Thank you for reminding me."

"You're welcome," Vader snorted.

The instant he heard the name _Starak's Hole_, he knew that trouble was coming. He really had no idea why Obi-Wan was willing to share that particular misadventure on Naos III with anyone, let alone someone like Sabé. Really, what _had_ he been thinking?

"Okay, I have no idea what you were talking about, but now I'm interested." Padmé grinned, sliding into the open seat next to Sabé.

"Yes, do continue." Sabé smiled, leaning forward a bit closer.

Obi-Wan now looked deeply anxious. Vader felt a chilly sense of doom descending on the both of them. Making up his mind, Vader plopped down next to Obi-Wan and continued the story. Heavily edited of course.

"Well, we were checking out this bar called _Starak's Hole_ and the owner, Starak, had just come up with this drink he called a Starak Shooter. We decided to try some and, long story short, we got totally smashed and blacked out most of the night." Vader explained with forced cheerfulness. "Since we couldn't remember how we got such bad hangovers when we woke up, we had Artoo hack some security cameras and…well…what we saw brought us to the conclusion that, one, we'd never drink Starak Shooters ever again and, two, we'd never speak of it again. End of story."

Obi-Wan looked shocked that he'd caved and answered the women's question. Sabé and Padmé looked shocked that Jedi not only got drunk, but drunk enough to forget the whole night they'd spent _getting_ drunk. Vader just sat there uncomfortably, staring at the table cloth and he noted some fine gold threads woven into the scarlet fabric that he hadn't noticed before.

"What happened to the 'never speak of it again' part?" Obi-Wan scowled.

"You're the one who brought it up." Vader shrugged.

"You got drunk?" Sabé sputtered. "Both of you?"

"You've never been to a bar with him I take it." Vader smirked, knowing that Obi-Wan was going to hate him for a while for this.

"Oh my," Padmé giggled as the shock wore off. "Dare I ask what you did while inebriated?"

"Nope, that remains forever confidential." Vader replied firmly. There was _no way_ he was going to admit to the drunken karaoke and Obi-Wan _would **kill** him_ if he spilled about the dancing on tables and drunkenly skipping down the streets.

"It had better," Obi-Wan muttered almost inaudibly.

Padmé giggled hysterically at the both of them. Apparently the mental image of a pair of sloshed Jedi tickled her funny bone in a serious way. But when her laughter died down, her little headache seemed to return.

"Are you all right Padmé?" Sabé asked worriedly.

"Yes, just a little headache," Padmé assured her Handmaiden, massaging her temples with her fingertips. "I think I've hung around her long enough," she decided with a sigh. "I'm going home."

"Okay, I'll go fetch Ellé and we'll leave." Sabé nodded and picked up Padmé's cape.

"No, no, if you're having fun you stay. I can get home by myself." Padmé waved Sabé off, taking her cape and draping it over her shoulders. "There's no reason for me to ruin your fun."

"But Padmé," Sabé frowned, "it's our job to make sure you're safe."

"I'm only taking a ten minute air-taxi ride Sabé, I'll survive." Padmé sighed irritably.

"But…" Sabé scowled.

"I'll escort her home if it makes you feel better." Vader offered. _If Padmé's leaving, this party will officially be boring anyway._

"You don't have to," Padmé protested.

"No, it's all right." Vader grinned. "It's a great excuse to leave. I've been looking for one since before I got here."

"Well, if you're sure you want to leave…" Padmé shrugged.

"I am, let's go," he smirked and offered her his arm in a theatrically gallant gesture.

She rolled her eyes, but took his arm anyway and let him lead her out of the ballroom. Vader fought to keep his pace slow and calm and suppress the jitters that rattled beneath his skin. But as he reached the curb outside of the hotel and raised his arm to hail a taxi, he blinked as the street seemed to briefly tilt.

_Whoa,_ he blinked, feeling a little lightheaded all of a sudden as a taxi pulled over in response to his hail. _What the heck?_ He wondered as he helped Padmé into the backseat, careful of her long dress and cape. _What's going on? I didn't drink that much… _

* * *

His heart sank in utter despair as she left with the tall dark Jedi. For months he'd planned and schemed. He'd thought of everything, but interference from the Jedi. And that is what had doomed him to failure. 

Not only was the man younger than he was, but he was taller, stronger, more dangerous, and he could read minds. Oh what he wouldn't do to have that power, the ability to read and influence minds. Then he wouldn't have to work quite so hard to get what and who he wanted. But, alas, he was not so gifted.

No, he had to flee before the all-seeing Jedi Knight picked up on his devious intent. And his act of self-preservation had dire consequences. His chance of having what he desired was forever dashed. Now the dashing young Jedi Knight would get a taste of what he'd hungered for, for so long… Unless the Jedi was just as prudish as his Order was reputed to be, of course.

Struggling not to collapse under the weight of his disappointment, Senator Josef Vorski of the Voshi System downed another glass of wine and slunk off in search of some easy consolation prize for the night…

* * *

_ Stars what is wrong with me?_ Padmé wondered as her fingers fumbled with the ties of her braids. She sat at the little vanity near her bed where one of her Handmaidens would do her hair and make-up for the day and where she undid all of it at night. That was what she was trying to do now, without too much success. 

After the air-taxi ride, her legs had turned to gelatin and Vader had become her Human crutch so she could make it to the lift and then to her bed chambers. It was hard for her to tell, but it seemed like he was getting rather wobbly by the time they made it here. But it could've just been her imagination.

He was still here, not having moved from the seat he'd taken on her bed. She enjoyed the company as she clumsily worked the plaits out of her hair. They'd been talking about something for a while, but she couldn't remember what. The conversation had been difficult to keep up as the both of them seemed to have developed problems with slurring. Or maybe it was their ears.

Amused by the odd thought of broken ears, Padmé giggled hysterically as the room suddenly swayed and swam around her. She tried to make it from her little vanity to her bed, where Vader was, but she tripped over her own feet. As she fell, Vader tried to catch her, but they somehow got entangled with each other and crashed into her bed. When things settled down enough for her to make sense of her situation, she was laying on her back on her bed with Vader laying on top of her.

They lay there like that for a minute in silence before they both burst out laughing. When they ran out of breath their laughter trailed off into near silence as they panted for air. She stared up at him as he stared down and decided that his eyes were very pretty.

"You have pretty eyes," she whispered, raising one hand to brush a loose curl back from his forehead.

His eyelids drooped a little and he leaned into her feather-light touch with a contented sigh. "Your eyes're pretty too."

Padmé smiled at him and giggled a little. "You're sweet."

"So're you." He grinned lopsidedly.

Padmé's smile widened, but faded when something occurred to her. "How did we get so drunk?"

"I dunno," Vader blinked, his expression melting into a confused frown. "I didn' drink tha' much…"

"Me neither," Padmé frowned.

She tried to think up some answer, some reason for her inebriated state, but her mind was too hazy and thick to come up with any results. It also didn't help that Vader was staring at her. Not in a mean way, but not exactly in a just-friends sort of way either.

His blue eyes, though slightly unfocused from the alcohol, burned into hers. Perhaps if she'd been of clear mind she could decipher the emotions those eyes held, but right now she was completely in the dark about what he might be thinking or feeling as he watched her. All she was focused on was his magnetic gaze, deep, blue, and smoldering. Something about it, about him, made her feel warmer, her heart race and flutter.

And then he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't like anything she'd ever read in any romance novel. He started out slow and hesitant and ended messy and clumsy. But it was enough to make her insides swirl and float, and almost enough to rob her of her capacity to think.

He drew back only when they both were in desperate need of air. His eyes seemed to glow, but confusion, conflict flickered beneath that. As they both gasped for breath, Padmé slowly came to the decision that he was a good kisser and that she wanted to kiss him again.

"I…" He gulped, groping for words. "I shouldn'…"

"You shouldn' what?" Padmé frowned, worried.

"I shouldn'…be kissin' you…like that." He managed.

But contrary to his declaration, he didn't move. He remained on top of her, his eyes gazing deeply into hers, never once looking away. His hot breath, smelling vaguely of wine, tickled her skin as it washed over her face and neck. He didn't make any move to back away or get off her.

Padmé looped an arm around the back of his neck and drew him back down. He shouldn't have kissed her like that. But he wasn't getting off. So she didn't want him to stop. She wouldn't let him.

Now _she _kissed _him_. He made absolutely no protest. Aside from his brief, shocked hesitation, he gave her no sign that he didn't want what she was giving him. And since he wasn't protesting, and since she was quite willing, kissing progressed to touching which progressed to…other things.


	54. 53: The Morning After

**Chapter 53**  
_The Morning After…_

Vader was in some warm, dim, deeply pleasant place and was totally content. He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there, and he didn't care. All that he cared about was the wonderful feeling of warmth and peace and contentment that he was immersed in.

He inhaled deeply and drowned in a soothing fragrance he couldn't even begin to identify. He was laying on softness, wrapped in softness, and cuddling something that was warm and soft. With a sigh, he snuggled closer to the unknown thing he was cuddling.

But then, as his awareness slowly rose and sharpened, a new and distinctly unpleasant set of sensations made themselves known. A dull throbbing headache slowly blossom behind his closed eyes. His mouth was thick and dry and filled with a sour taste. And he really, really had to pee.

Grumbling incoherent curses, he somehow stumbled out of bed and off in a blind search for a refresher. His eyes were cracked open, but it was kind of dark and his eyes were all blurry. But after much stubbing of toes, barking of shins, and even some banging into walls, he found what he was in increasingly desperate need of.

After properly positioning himself so as not to miss (even in his hazy mind, he _knew_ he didn't want to piss Obi-Wan off for making a mess by missing) he reached down and… _Hey, where the heck is my underwear?_ He blinked blurrily, then shrugged and just relieved himself. He'd worry about where his pants and underwear had disappeared to later.

With that essential bodily function taken care of, Vader stumbled into the shower. Some nice hot water would ease his headache and wake him up. And maybe it would help him remember what he'd done last night to wake up feeling so incredibly awful.

When he'd soaked for a few minutes under the cascade of hot steamy water, he groped around for a bottle of shampoo and got a surprise. _Hey…this isn't mine…and it's not Obi-Wan's either…_ He scowled in deep concentration as he forced his eyes to read the tiny label with the girly cursive font.

_This isn't even shampoo! It's conditioner! I don't use conditioner! Obi-Wan doesn't either!_ Bothered by this, but still not thinking entirely clearly, he set the odd conditioner aside and found the shampoo. _This stuff smells fruity… Or flowery… Or whatever._

With every passing minute, as the fog in his brain was slowly burned away by the hot shower, he grew more worried. First he found he didn't have any pants or underwear, which was very strange because he never slept in the nude. Second there was girly shampoo _and conditioner _in the shower. And third, he didn't remember anything from yesterday…

_Oh this is bad…_ He climbed out of the shower and found a towel. A very soft, very fluffy, rather feminine towel. _This is definitely bad…_ As he glanced around, now that his eyes were open, he saw that he wasn't in his refresher in the Jedi Temple. _Okay, now this is **beyond** bad…_

A knot of sick dread formed in his stomach that was only partly due to the hangover that he new realized that he had. _Crap. Hangover…. No memory of the previous day… Stang!_

It appeared that he'd gotten stupendously drunk. Again. And now it was highly likely that he'd done something incredibly dumb. Again. Though…this time with the nakedness and the girly bathroom…it was a heck of a lot worse than his escapades on Naos III.

_Oh Force! What did I do? **What** did I **do**? What **do**_ _I do?_

For a moment, panic blinded him. He was dead. There was no way around it. He. Was. Dead.

_Calm down Skywalker._ He shook his head to try and clear it and immediately regretted it as his head felt like it was going to explode. _Ow. Bad idea. Don't do that again._

Once the throbbing receded to something he could think through. _Okay… Step one: find clothes. Step two: put on clothes. Step three: get the hell out of here! …Yeah, that's a good plan…that'll work fine…_

Taking a deep, calming, cleansing breath, he wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and very cautiously crept out of the refresher. The apartment he found on the other side of the door had a vague familiarity about it that only fed the sick feeling of nameless dread. The more he saw as he searched for his lost clothing, the worse he felt.

As he feared, he found his lost robes in the darkened bedroom. They were strewn haphazardly across the floor and were intermingled with other articles of clothing that did _not_ belong to him. Gulping back a vague feeling of nausea, he began to sort through the mess.

He found his boxer shorts, pants, boots, and his two tunics easily enough. Then he stumbled over a cast off brazier and his methodical searching rhythm was disturbed. Stumbling backwards a few steps, it took him several moments to get his eyes averted and working to find the rest of his outfit.

Vader found the soft fabric belt dangerously close to the bra and to avoid touching the feminine undergarment he ended up using the Force. Hurriedly wrapping it around his waist, he kept searching for his other belt, his glove, his cloak, and the black leather straps. But his search abruptly ended as he finally caught a glimpse of the apartment's owner.

A pale, slender, bare arm hung off the side of the bed, poking out from under the twisted pile of sheets that obscured the rest of his view. Drawn to it by some unconscious magnetism, he found himself standing by the bed, staring at the shapeless lump that concealed a Human being. With a trembling hand, he carefully pulled aside the sheets and…

_No! **No!** No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…_!

He left then, still choking on denial after denial. He left what clothes he hadn't found behind. He left behind his lightsaber and other gear. He left the apartment. He left the building. And he ran home.

* * *

Obi-Wan pensively made his way back to his apartment after a rather worrying breakfast. The problem wasn't with the food or anything that had happened in the cafeteria. It was with his company, or lack of it, during his meal. 

Vader was missing, MIA, AWOL, nowhere to be found. When he'd woken up, he found Vader's room empty. The younger man had failed to materialize for the morning tea. He wasn't visible anywhere in the apartment. And before he'd left for breakfast, he'd checked the bond to see where he was, but only got the vague static of peaceful unconsciousness.

Puzzled by that response, he'd gone to breakfast to eat and think it out. When Vader failed to appear while he mulled over the mystery, he grew a little more worried. Where could he have gotten to?

Since he wasn't in his room, yet he was unconscious, he must be sleeping elsewhere not having made it home after the charity ball. He'd escorted Senator Amidala back to her apartment, so he was most likely there. And if history was repeating itself, he was passed out on her couch. But why would he spend the night?

A nagging sense of unease that he couldn't pinpoint hovered over him. He'd first felt it when he found himself to be alone in the shared apartment. And as the morning progressed it only intensified. The hazy, muddled, and utterly bizarre dreams he'd suffered during the night didn't help his mood any either.

_Vader had better turn up soon,_ Obi-Wan grumbled. _I'd really like to know what the heck he's up to… _He sighed and paused in a hallway to contemplate an ancient mural that depicted a famous Jedi of old, Nomi Sunrider. _And things had been going so well lately too…_

The return to Coruscant two days previous had been a welcome break from the relentless grind and horror of the war. The sudden assignment to the Senate charity ball had been unpleasant, but tolerable. After he'd gone through the motions with the politicians, he actually found some enjoyment in the whole mess.

Conversing with Sabé after exchanging meaningless pleasantries with Senators was like a breath of fresh air. She hadn't had any agenda in speaking with him; she had no interest in politics beyond supporting her friend and employer. Her curiosity about him and his adventures was genuine and he found himself willing to share.

In fact he'd become so relaxed as he spoke with her he almost let slip some embarrassing information. Only Vader's quick intervention kept him from spilling the details. But then Vader had gone on to give a vague, edited version of the embarrassing tale and then made a teasing comment about him and his behavior in bars.

_I still need to get him for that,_ Obi-Wan frowned as he continued to stare at the mural. Vader hadn't said anything specific, but saying "_You've never been to a bar with him I take it"_ didn't imply anything positive. At best that said he enjoyed alcohol a bit too much, at worst it painted him as a borderline alcoholic.

Thankfully Sabé, and Padmé, hadn't seemed to take that comment the wrong way. It only seemed to shock and then amuse them. Hopefully they'd forget all about it. Hopefully.

Shaking his head, he shifted his thoughts on a slightly different yet related track. After Vader had vanished with Padmé, his conversation with Sabé changed. Instead of him regaling her with tales of his adventures, she shared a growing worry of hers with him…

* * *

"Is something wrong?" Obi-Wan asked curiously. 

After Padmé and Vader had disappeared from the ballroom Sabé had grown very quiet. Her carefully trimmed and polished nails drew anxious circles in the scarlet tablecloth as she slowly chewed her lower lip. When he voiced his question, she gave a little start.

"Hm?" She blinked. "Oh it-it's…" She trailed off before saying 'nothing' and then decided to changer her answer. "It's about Padmé."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"I'm worried that…" She shook her head, "I think she's working too hard. She's never taken a vacation, unless you count that brief time she went into hiding, and the few weeks between her last term as Queen and when she accepted the post as Senator. And every waking moment revolves on her work. The only time I think she doesn't work is when you or Vader swing by for a visit." Her tone was calm as she spoke, but Obi-Wan didn't have to be a Jedi to sense the deep current of worry that lay beneath.

"Have you spoken to Padmé about this?" Obi-Wan frowned with concern.

"I haven't been quite as direct, but yes, I have brought the subject of a vacation or a little break up before." Sabé sighed in frustration. "She always brushes it aside, promises me maybe later, and it never happens. The best I can ever get is perhaps a little shopping trip, a few hours of looking at shoes and dresses. And even then I think that she still has her work on her mind."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan remarked.

"I just don't know what to do." Sabé muttered. "I don't want to put any more pressure on her than there already is, but I can't stand staying totally silent either."

"That is a dilemma." Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "And I see no easy solution to it. Padmé Amidala is a very strong-minded, stubborn person with a powerful sense of duty. She does what she feels she must do and she believes deeply in her work. It would be difficult to separate her from her work, even under times of peace."

"I know," Sabé almost whispered, "I served her for years, and was her closest friend in school before that. I know just how driven she is by her sense of duty, honor, and unyielding perfectionism." She leaned forward on her folded arms, her eyes fixed on some invisible spot on the tablecloth.

"But I also know that at one time her dreams went beyond politics," she continued softly. "When we weren't in class or doing homework or studying, we'd talk about our hopes for our futures. She wanted to be a politician of course, though she didn't know what position she'd seek at first. But she also wanted a family of her own, especially after her sister Sola found Darred and settled down with him." Sabé paused to snag a glass of white wine from the tray of a passing waiter.

"I remember her telling me about the kind of man she wanted to fall in love with and marry. He didn't have to be incredibly handsome or a genius. She wanted someone kind and understanding, someone who would love her and support her when she needed it. Someone who could make her laugh, or just smile, when she was sad. He didn't have to be perfect; he just had to be special." She smiled sadly and took a sip of her wine.

"And she wanted at least two children. Maybe more, but definitely not less. She wanted a daughter, a little girl she could love and dress up. But mainly she wanted a son, a little boy of her own. Padmé only ever had her sister, and then her two nieces. There's never been a boy in her immediate family and she always wanted one." Her smile faded and her expression almost turned grim.

"Padmé always knew just what she wanted to do with her life, and I'll admit that I envied her for it. I was never so sure of what I wanted for the future. But now…" Sabé sighed and sipped at her drink.

"But now her dream of politics has consumed everything. Her mind is completely focused on her work. She hasn't so much as looked at another man since leaving school. The last boy she kissed was named Paolo, and that was in school when she was twelve. He's moved on to be an artist as far as I know, and she's nearly forgotten him." Sabé finally looked up and locked her gaze to his.

"She's still young; she's only twenty-six, almost twenty-seven. She still has time to find the man perfect for her and have the babies that she wants. But that time is rapidly running out. She has maybe a decade and some odd years left before she'll be too old to safely carry a child to term. Then the only thing she can do is adopt." Her expression was undeniably grim now.

"At the rate she's going, she'll never stop working. She'll work herself into an early grave or until she burns herself out. Then all her other dreams will be gone, forgotten in the ashes of her memory. And I think that's what scares me the most…"

* * *

Obi-Wan turned away from the mural and continued on his way. 

After Sabé had finished pouring out her worries, Obi-Wan had found himself quite speechless. The things that she had spoken of he had never once considered. He had been raised a Jedi, knowing only hard work, duty, and sacrifice. He knew that there were other ways of living, but they had always been distant, an abstract.

Some rare Jedi could easily see beyond that. They could see past their Jedi up-bringing and find something more. Like Nejaa Halcyon, who was married with a new infant son.

Listening to Sabé speak of it had almost, ever so briefly, made that way of living feel like a reality to him. He could almost see it, almost reach out and touch it. But it remained just beyond him.

Still, he could feel for Padmé Amidala. Her duty and sacrifice was easily equal to that of a Jedi. Yet she wasn't a Jedi, she was a Senator, a civilian. While her service to her world was deeply admirable, she should not slave away her life for everyone else's benefit but her own.

But there was really nothing he, or Sabé, could do about it. Padmé was a stubborn individual and she would not step aside, even for a little while, until she felt ready to. And that could very well be never.

Obi-Wan picked up the pace a little as he reached his hallway. The door to his apartment was only a few yards away and he was eager to get back there. Perhaps Vader had returned in his absence.

The instant the door hissed open, he staggered backwards as an entire ocean's worth of negativity crashed over him. This was worse than anything that had come before it. There was fear, horror, shame, self-loathing, guilt, misery, self-hatred, and hints of physical discomfort.

_Well,_ Obi-Wan blinked as he peered into the strangely pitch black apartment, _he's back_.

The hovering sense of unease that had plagued him all morning now seemed to be entirely justified. Steeling himself, he cautiously raised the lights enough so he could see where he was going, but not so much that it was particularly bright. It was just enough to see just what he didn't want to see.

Vader was curled up in a corner of the couch, tucked tightly into the fetal position. He was perfectly still and perfectly silent, and if anything that was an ominous sign in itself. Obi-Wan hovered in the doorway for a few moments longer before cautiously approaching.

His cloak was missing. And his black leather. And his glove. And his belt. …And his lightsaber. But he seemed to have everything else that belonged on his person. Obi-Wan's unease morphed into full-fledged dread.

He stopped one step away from standing directly in front of Vader and gently grasped his shoulder. No reaction. Obi-Wan gave him a slight shake. Still no reaction.

"Vader?" Obi-Wan asked cautiously. "What's wrong?"

It took several minutes before there was a response. "What did we do last night?" Vader asked quietly, his voice deceptively calm.

That one innocent question set off major alarm bells in Obi-Wan's mind. _Something is wrong here…very wrong._ "We attended a Senate charity ball as the Jedi representatives." He replied, sitting down beside the huddled young man. "Don't you remember?"

"No," Vader whispered, his voice starting to sound strained. "I don't remember anything."

"That doesn't make any sense." Obi-Wan frowned in puzzlement. "The last time I saw you, you were perfectly sober so you _should _remember."

"I was?" Vader slowly raised his head from his knees and stared over at Obi-Wan with confused, unfocused, blood-shot eyes. Even in the dim light his skin held an unhealthy pallor and Obi-Wan couldn't help but be worried.

"Yes, Senator Amidala complained of a headache and you escorted her back to her apartment." Obi-Wan replied.

Vader somehow managed to blanch paler than he already was and his expression was one of pure misery. "Oh," he moaned softly.

"So," Obi-Wan began hesitantly, "do you know what happened to the rest of your clothes?"

Vader buried his face in his knees again and let out a choked, muffled whimper. "I'm a terrible Jedi!" He sobbed softly. "I'm a terrible friend!"

Obi-Wan sighed and awkwardly embraced the distraught young man. "Oh come now, it can't be that bad."

"It is!" He choked miserably, squirming around to bury his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder. "It is…"

"No it isn't," Obi-Wan corrected, "the galaxy hasn't collapsed in on itself, the sun still rose this morning, life continues on as normal."

"Yeah, for everyone else," Vader sniffed bitterly.

Obi-Wan only shook his head and patted Vader's back in a soothing gesture. He was too upset right now to be reasoned with, it was best to just wait until he was calmer and more clear-headed. While Vader worked some of his distress out of his system, Obi-Wan ran through the known facts.

One, Vader had escorted Padmé home after the ball when she complained of a headache while he was outwardly fine. Two, he did not make it back to the Temple until mid-morning. Three, when he did reappear he was missing various articles of clothing and most of his memory of the previous day. And four, he was very, very upset.

There weren't very many conclusions he could draw from this, none of them particularly encouraging. The most likely explanation for Vader's breakdown was that, somehow, he became heavily intoxicated after leaving the ball with Padmé and, lacking his inhibitions, acted on his attraction to the beautiful Senator. Either she accepted his advances, due to somehow also being intoxicated, and they had sex, or she refused him and because of his lack of memory and state of undress _thought_ he had had sex with her. Any way he looked at it, it was bad. And there was only one way to find out for sure…

"I think we need to track down the rest of your clothes." Obi-Wan suggested quietly. "And your lightsaber."

"No!" Vader moaned. "I can't go back there!"

"Why not?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"I can't," Vader repeated hoarsely. "I can't go back…"

Obi-Wan thought about arguing with him some more, but a glance at the wall chrono told him he didn't have the time. "Well if you're sure you can't go back," he sighed, "I guess I'll have to go to Senator Amidala's apartment later then. I have some meetings coming up. Now will you be all right?"

"My head hurts," was Vader's whimpered response.

"I'll get you some painkillers then," Obi-Wan sighed, gently disentangling himself from the still utterly miserable Vader.

As he rifled around in the medicine cabinet in the refresher for the bottle of aspirin, Obi-Wan chuckled wryly. _I think I'm going to need a couple of these too,_ he mused as he located the bottle of pills. _Today is going to be **so** much fun!_

* * *

A stray beam of light wormed its way through the blinds and stuck Padmé in the eye. For a minute she didn't react, but then she groaned and rolled away from the source of her annoyance. But as she moved she encountered what her subconscious mind recognized as a void, a place where something should've been there, but wasn't. This discrepancy was enough to start her on the path to consciousness.

The first thing she was aware of was a dull throb behind her eyes. It made her want to go right back into the bliss of unconsciousness. But that, along with other uncomfortable physical sensations wouldn't let her.

After the headache came a dry, unpleasant taste in her mouth. Then the need to use the refresher rather badly. And as she began to move in order to get there, there was an odd soreness that she was pretty sure she shouldn't be feeling after a proper night's sleep.

_Ugh, today is going to be a bad day,_ Padmé groaned as she stiffly sat up, her eyes glued closed by sleep. _It's drafty this morning,_ she frowned, forcing her eyes open. What she found surprised her.

_Why am I naked? I don't sleep naked ever…_ Padmé scowled, but shrugged the odd detail off in favor of getting to her refresher in a timely manner.

Wrapping herself up in a slightly damp towel that, for some unknown reason, had been laying in the middle of her floor, she staggered out of her room and into her refresher. After relieving herself, it was into the shower where she luxuriated in the hot steamy water, letting it gently lessen the mysterious aches she suffered from. When she felt sufficiently clean and awake, she left her shower and continued preparing for the day.

Now cloaked in her fluffy bathrobe, Padmé padded out of the refresher and stopped by her small office to check her day planner. For today's date there was nothing listed, the Senate wouldn't be in session and she had no meetings scheduled. Today, it seemed, would be a catch-up day, where she vainly tried to plow through the mountainous stack of folios and data chips that littered her desk.

She was about to close the calendar program on her terminal when the events listed for the previous day caught her eye. _The refugee charity ball was last night?_ She wondered, puzzled. _Oh wait…it was…_

Padmé squinted at the screen of her data terminal as the hazy memories of the previous night slowly filtered back through her mind. Her recollections of the gala were strangely fuzzy, full of gaps and holes. She remembered leaving because of some kind of headache… _I must've been really worn out last night,_ she decided, leaving her office for her bedroom.

That theory was shot out of the sky as soon as she reentered her bedroom. As she was walking over to her enormous closet to pick a dress, she first stepped in the crumpled form of her dress from last night. Confused as to why she'd just left it on the floor like that, she picked it up and shook the wrinkles out of it and brought it with her to the closet.

Then her toe hit something cold and metallic and she froze. She looked down and stared…and stared…and stared. She just kept staring because she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

_Why is there a lightsaber on my floor…still connected to a belt…?_ She stared at it as recognition slowly rose in her mind. She knew this particular design. _Why did Vader leave his lightsaber and belt here? Why was he even here at all?_

The belt and lightsaber weren't the only things he left behind. When she finally could peel her eyes off the lightsaber, she found other items of his. His black leather was cast off in a corner, his cloak was crumpled half-under her bed, and his black glove was hanging off her nightstand.

Confused and feeling a little worried, she gathered up his things and piled them on the end of her bed. Then she gathered up her own things that were strangely strewn around the room and shoved them into the hamper to be laundered later. And with her room cleaned up, she selected a simple non-Senate dress at random and got dressed.

_Something is wrong here…_ She frowned as she made a quick stop back in her refresher to find her headache pills to kill the lingering mild headache that she had. _Something…something… What exactly happened last night?_

Padmé retrieved a glass of water from her kitchen and used it to help her toss back her pills. Then she settled down on her favorite couch and began to think. There were too many strange things like the holes in her memory, waking up naked, and finding some of Vader's things in her bedroom. She had to find out what had happened last night.

_Let me see… I went to the ball with Sabé and Ellé. There was a lot of petty social posturing. I wanted to leave. Vorski showed up and got me a drink that tasted funny…_ A warning light blinked in the back of her mind. _Vader scared him off. We danced for a while. It was a lot of fun. I started feeling bad. He took me home. We both started having trouble walking…and talking…and thinking…_ Several more warning lights lit up in her brain. _And then he…I…we…_

Padmé sat up very straight, very still, and blushed. Her memories of their…activities…were not very clear, just hazy images, sensations, and emotions. But it was enough, more than enough.

_Oh no…_ She slumped forward and buried her face in her hands. _No, no, no… What have I done?_

* * *

Sabé smiled as she made her way to Padmé's apartment building. Today was most likely going to be a boring day. The Senate wasn't in session and there were no meetings scheduled, so she would just be assisting Padmé in digging through reports and assimilating new information to form a better picture of the goings-on of the Republic. But still she smiled.

Last night had been the most fun she'd had in a while. Sure there had been plenty of stress, what with dealing with snooty politicians and then spending the rest of the night with Obi-Wan. But still she'd had fun.

After her initial bout of nerves in dealing with Obi-Wan, she managed to relax and fully enjoy his company. The stories he'd told her were interesting, sometimes surprising, and funny. She was especially amused by the bare facts tale of _Starak's Hole_ on Naos III.

And she had to admit, it had been nice to share her concerns with someone else. After Padmé and Vader had departed, she'd spilled her secret worries for her friend to Obi-Wan and he'd listened attentively to every word. Once she'd gotten all of it out, she was sure that he agreed with most of her opinions on the matter, and that had made her feel enormously better.

They didn't stay very long after that. Just long enough for her to finish her glass of wine actually. And then Obi-Wan decided he would follow his former Padawan's example and escorted her home.

Sabé's nerves briefly resurfaced then, but she stubbornly ignored them. When they reached her apartment, she politely invited Obi-Wan in, but he declined. She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she was a little disappointed, but not at all surprised.

Still smiling, she entered Padmé's building and stepped into the lift, pressing the button and entering her code for the penthouse. Her little smile briefly widened as the lift lurched into motion, giving her the slight feeling of being heavier for a moment as the car rocketed skyward. She loved riding lifts for the funny feelings they gave her when they went up and down.

The door opened to Padmé's apartment and she stepped inside. Since today was an off day for the Senate and no meetings were set up there was no need for an elaborate dress, hairstyle, and make-up so she wouldn't have to worry about that, Padmé could dress herself just fine. No, today she would play the helper, the one who brewed up endless pots of caf and answered the comm.

Her smiled died the instant she caught sight of Padmé. She was sitting on the couch with her face hidden in her hands and her slumped posture just screamed something bad. Sabé immediately was at her Lady's side with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Padmé, what's wrong?" Sabé asked softly.

Padmé did not immediately reply. Sabé was ready to repeat her question when Padmé abruptly sat up straight, her expression grim and determined. "Sabé, track down a medical droid for me."

"Of course," Sabé nodded, heading for the comm. "Are you ill?"

"No, I just want a test run to check on something." Padmé replied. "If I'm right, and I'm sure that I am, I just might have the thing that'll keep Vorski away forever…"

* * *

Padmé's index finger drummed an anxious rhythm against the countertop of her kitchen as she waited for the medical droid to finish its analysis and give a report on its findings. She'd asked it to run a full toxicology screen on a small sample of her blood and that took a long time. She almost jumped when the droid suddenly moved after having sat still for nearly a half an hour. It produced a data chip with its findings and sat by patiently, waiting for any questions she might have.

She ignored the droid for a moment, feeding the chip into her datapad and calling up the results. Sabé hovered over her shoulder and read along curiously. Normally Padmé would scold Sabé for the hovering, but she was too fixated on what she was reading to care this time. One particular finding caught her eye and she selected it for further information.

**Trystacine** _– A drug long outlawed within the bounds of the Galactic Republic and elsewhere for its criminal abuse. It is manufactured in an inert form that fools most chemical analyses into classifying it as harmless. However once it enters the bloodstream and is metabolized by the liver (or equivalent organ) it is broken down into active components. Clear traces of the drug can linger in an individual's systems and tissues for weeks, depending on species. Effects of the drug include: loss of coordination, loss of inhibitions, slurred speech, and a constant good mood, usually accompanied by erratic fits of laughter. After-effects of the drug mimic an alcoholic hangover and there is usually partial or full memory loss of the time when under the drug's influence. It dissolves completely in any liquid and is tasteless to most beings. There is a small percentage of beings who do taste the drug as a bitter or foul aftertaste. _Trystacine _was classified as illegal for its rampant use as a 'date-rape' drug. The victim is drugged hours in advance of the rape and with the long gap of time between the drugging and the attack and the memory loss it is almost impossible to track down the individual responsible for the crime. Only a small amount is needed to effect an individual and when mixed with alcohol or other drugs it is several times more potent than alone. Over-dosing on this drug can cause severe vomiting, brain damage, coma, and even death._

By the time she finished reading the provided information, Padmé's teeth were clenched so tightly together that her whole jaw ached. Taking a few deep breaths and forcing herself to relax, she thought things over. Lowering the datapad, she regarded the waiting medical droid.

"Thank you for your assistance, you are dismissed." Padmé handed the droid a credit chip with its payment and the droid bowed mutely and left.

"I'm going to kill that pervert!" Sabé hissed after the droid had departed. "I'm going to _kill him_!"

"No you won't Sabé." Padmé frowned as she strode into her small office. "You're going to help me put together a little file and then we're going to call Vorski and make him a deal that he doesn't dare refuse."

"Make him a deal?" Sabé sputtered. "No! Take this right to the Senate Guard!"

"I can't," Padmé sighed. "I'd rather not resort to blackmail, but it's best for all involved that we make a deal."

"Why can't you?" Sabé scowled.

"That would require involving the Jedi." Padmé replied.

"What?" Sabé blinked. "Why would…" She stopped and thought hard. "Did you…?" Padmé couldn't look Sabé in the eye and instead loaded the data chip into her data terminal and began preparing to create her little 'black file.' "You did…" Sabé breathed in shock.

"If I take this to the Senate Guard, the media will catch wind of it and spawn a scandal that will do more than mar more than my own reputation." Padmé sighed. "I refuse to let that happen."

"Oh…" Sabé mumbled. "So you're going to blackmail Vorski?"

"Basically, yes." Padmé shrugged. "We set the terms and if he refuses them or violates them, we leak this file and he is, if not ruined, then hurt significantly."

"It's the next best thing, I guess." Sabé nodded reluctantly. "I still wish we could take this to the Guard though and really burn him."

"Me too," Padmé agreed. "But unfortunately we must content ourselves with one little comm call and a little black file."

"Right," Sabé sighed, settling down at a corner of Padmé's desk. "Let's get to it then…"

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed wearily as he rode the lift to Padmé's apartment. Now that his meetings were over, he finally had time to come here, though it was getting to be a bit late. He'd tried to get Vader to come with him before he'd left the Temple, but while he was a little calmer than he had been after breakfast, he still vehemently refused. So Obi-Wan was left with the awkward task of reclaiming Vader's misplaced belongings and finding a few answers, alone.

When the lift came to a stop and the doors opened, he found himself face-to-face with Sabé, who was apparently just about to leave. She squeaked and hopped backwards a step while Obi-Wan merely blinked a few times. Awkward silence reigned for several long moments afterwards.

"Good evening," Obi-Wan managed at last with a slight bow. "May I speak with Senator Amidala?"

"Oh-oh yes of course!" Sabé stammered, moving aside. "Do come in."

Obi-Wan followed her lead into the common room and took a seat on the couch while Sabé hurried off to fetch Padmé. Some minutes later, a slightly flustered Padmé appeared carrying Vader's abandoned belongings. Everything was neatly folded and stacked, perfectly in order.

"Good evening Master Kenobi," Padmé greeted nervously. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you," Obi-Wan refused politely. "I can't stay very long."

"Oh," Padmé swallowed nervously and took a seat. "I see."

Obi-Wan sighed deeply. "I hate to ask you this, but…what happened after you left the charity ball?"

"I…would rather not say." Padmé replied after a moment. "However I do have an explanation." She nodded to Sabé who briefly disappeared.

When Sabé reappeared she was carrying a datapad which she passed to him. Obi-Wan peered at the screen curiously and found a report of a blood analysis. The results caused him to inhale sharply.

"Trystacine?" Obi-Wan hissed. "How did you come into contact with that?"

"Senator Vorski brought me a replacement drink after he spilled my original one." Padmé answered, her tone reflected her disgust. "I didn't wish to offend him so I kept it and when he finally did leave, Vader kindly decided to finish it off for me."

"Ah," Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. _That explains everything._ "So how do you plan to deal with Vorski?"

"It's already taken care of," Padmé assured him. "He won't be a problem for me or my staff ever again."

Obi-Wan studied Padmé for a minute. "Blackmail?" He guessed.

"Yes," Padmé sighed, "I have no desire to spark any scandal or controversy."

"I see," Obi-Wan nodded. "May I have a copy of this?"

"Of course, you can take that copy with you." Padmé replied.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan smiled, ejecting the data chip from the 'pad. "Now, I should be going." He stood and gathered up the chip and Vader's lost items.

Padmé rose with him and escorted him back to the lift. Before he could step inside, she caught him by the arm and brought him to a stop. He sensed she had a question for him and he patiently waited while she gathered herself to ask it.

"How is he?" She asked finally.

"He's…very upset." Obi-Wan hesitantly replied. "As far as I can tell, he doesn't remember anything at all of what happened. Hopefully seeing this," he held up the chip, "will help."

"Oh," she chewed her lip anxiously and wrapped her arms around her chest. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Obi-Wan blinked. "You didn't drug him on purpose or force him to do any of what he did." She still looked rather upset and he tried to think up something else to calm her down. "Perhaps I can convince him to stop by sometime?" He offered.

"I'd like that," Padmé smiled slightly. "Hopefully the both of you can come over before you have to leave again."

"We'll see," Obi-Wan smiled and stepped into the lift. "Good evening Senator, may the rest of your day be pleasant."

"Good-bye Obi-Wan, may your evening be pleasant as well." Her smile widened marginally. "And hopefully your former apprentice will feel better too."

Obi-Wan only had time to nod in response before the lift doors hissed closed. As the lift car descended, he tucked Vader's things under one arm and contemplated the data chip Padmé had given him. This, he felt, would be the key in convincing Vader that he wasn't in as much trouble with the lovely Senator as he thought he was.

_It looks like I'm going to have to see if that blasted nickname the 'faxes coined for me is deserved._ Obi-Wan sighed as the lift reached the main lobby of the building. _I'm not much of a Negotiator if I can't negotiate Vader out of his room and back into Padmé's apartment…_


	55. 54: Awkward GoodByes

**Chapter 54**  
_Awkward Good-Byes_

Vader lay face-down on his bed, with his face buried in his pillow. He wasn't sleepy anymore, but he desperately didn't want to get up. If he got up, then he'd have to go someplace he didn't want to go. Obi-Wan would make him.

Roughly two weeks had passed since he'd…he'd…done some very inappropriate things with Padmé. It didn't matter that some weird drug called Trystacine was involved. He'd still done it.

He didn't remember doing it. But despite his lack of memory, he still dreamed about it. Perhaps it was subconscious memories coming back to him in his sleep, or maybe it was just his overactive imagination coming up with what might've happened that night.

Whatever it was though, it haunted him. He could practically feel the softness of her skin and the silkiness of her hair and smell the fragrance of her. And, to his shame, all he wanted was to smell her, touch her, taste her again.

Obi-Wan was no help at all. Every single day Obi-Wan tried to convince him to come with him and visit Padmé. Vader always refused. There was simply no way that he could face her ever again. Not after what he'd done.

_He doesn't understand,_ Vader thought bitterly. _He'll never understand. He's a Jedi, he was raised in a friggin' plastic bubble! He's probably never been anywhere close to being in love, and there's no way in hell that he's ever slept with anyone!_

Vader swallowed a moan as he heard his door open and sensed Obi-Wan march inside. He refused to look up, keeping his face stubbornly buried in his pillow. _Whatever happened to knocking and asking permission to come in?_ Vader wondered sourly.

"Get up," Obi-Wan commanded sternly.

"No," Vader mumbled into his pillow.

"This is ridiculous, you're twenty-one, almost twenty-two years old." Obi-Wan grumbled. "Get up."

"No," Vader repeated, shifting his pillow so that it covered his head. _Go away._

"Get up now before I make you." Obi-Wan threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," Vader snorted. _I'm taller than you are and I weigh more. There's no way that you can make me move–_

He hadn't even finished his thought when he felt himself moving. The sheets peeled off his body and he felt himself being lifted up off his bed. It was obvious that Obi-Wan was levitating him out of bed since no one was touching him. And then Obi-Wan dropped him on the floor, making no effort to soften his landing.

Vader grunted and stiffly sat up to glare at Obi-Wan. The older man slowly opened his eyes, which had been closed in concentration, and stared right back. They scowled at one another for a while before Vader broke and looked away.

"Get going," Obi-Wan commanded. "We'll be leaving in an hour so be ready."

"Yes Master," Vader murmured in defeat.

Obi-Wan left the room with Vader still sitting on the floor. Vader slumped forward and hide his face in his hands. It seemed that Obi-Wan's famous patience was finally starting to run out with him. He was going to get Vader to see Padmé before they left this afternoon for the Outer Rim, even if he had to drag Vader there by his hair while he was still in his sleep clothes.

_I'm doomed,_ Vader sighed. _I…am…doomed…_

_

* * *

_

Padmé sat at her kitchen table and yawned. It wasn't very early, it was roughly mid-morning, but she still felt half-asleep. And today, just like the last few mornings, she just felt bad. It was a vague feeling of nausea, but she never had a fever, and it always went away after she forced her way through breakfast.

The first time she thought she might be coming down with a virus. But without a fever and considering the fact that it went away after an hour or so, she wasn't so sure. Right now, her best theory was that it was stress.

_Maybe I should try and find some time for a vacation,_ Padmé sighed as Sabé bustled around the kitchen, starting breakfast up and brewing a pot of caf. _That'll make Sabé happy._ Sabé paused in her preparations to pour Padmé a cup of caf and then returned to cooking eggs on the stove.

Padmé sipped at the slightly bitter stimulant drink and grimaced. She never drank the stuff for its flavor, just for the kick of energy it delivered. But this pot tasted way worse than usual…

Her stomach turned over and the next thing she knew, she'd dropped her cup and was bolting for the refresher. She barely made it in time, no thanks to her long dress that she tripped over two or three times. And then what little was in her stomach escaped.

She hated throwing up with a passion. It was absolutely disgusting and it felt nasty. But after she finished, she felt a heck of a lot better. After cleaning out her mouth, she felt more than ready for breakfast, her earlier nausea completely forgotten.

However Sabé was waiting for her on the other side of the refresher door and she was upset. "Get in bed right now." Sabé commanded, sternly pointing the way to her bed.

"What?" Padmé blinked. "No, I'm fine."

"Padmé, you just puked, that doesn't fit with being fine." Sabé scowled. "Get back in bed."

"No, really, I'm fine," Padmé insisted. "I feel much better, except for the fact that I'm starving. If I was sick I wouldn't be hungry." She argued.

Sabé eyed Padmé skeptically. "How do I know you're just not saying that?"

"Sabé, if I was sick and throwing up, I'd go straight to bed without you having to tell me." Padmé declared. "Why would I go to work if I had the stomach flu or whatever? I seriously doubt I'd do much good for Naboo's image by vomiting in the middle of a speech in the Senate."

"Yeah," Sabé muttered thoughtfully. "Well, if you get sick again, I don't care what you say, you're going back to bed and staying there until a doctor or medical droid clears you for work."

"Fine, fine," Padmé sighed in mild annoyance. "Let's get back to breakfast, I'm starving!"

* * *

Obi-Wan swallowed yet another annoyed sigh as Vader yet again fidgeted next to him in the lift. "You seem a little on edge." He observed dryly. 

"What is it with you and understating things?" Vader snapped back irritably.

"I was merely making an observation," Obi-Wan frowned, "there's no need to snap about it." Vader made an incoherent sound of frustration and looked away from Obi-Wan, intent on ignoring him. Obi-Wan shook his head wearily. "You're sweating," he noticed. "Relax. Take a deep breath."

"I'd like to see you relax if you were in my situation!" Vader snarled, whirling around on Obi-Wan and fixing him with an angry, and fearful, look.

"Relax," Obi-Wan repeated more sternly. "Working yourself into a panic won't help you."

"This isn't helping me either!" Vader growled.

"You can't run away from your mistakes," Obi-Wan replied calmly. "You need to face her. And besides, Padmé would very much like to see you again. Would you end your friendship with her just because the both of you became intoxicated and slept with each other?"

Vader seemed to melt before his eyes. "No," he whispered miserably.

"I didn't think so," Obi-Wan nodded. "Now do your best to relax, we don't have to stay long."

Vader had no time for a reply as the lift came to a stop and opened into Padmé's penthouse apartment. The young man paled and Obi-Wan began to worry that he'd be sick or pass out. Obi-Wan gently took Vader by the arm and led him into the apartment and towards the common room.

Padmé and Sabé were already there relaxing on the couches and chatting cheerfully. Their conversation immediately died when Padmé caught sight of them. If there had been any thought that Padmé was upset with Vader for their drugged tryst, it was erased by the radiant smile she graced them with.

"Hello you two, I was beginning to worry that you'd never come back and visit me." Padmé smiled.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan greeted with a smile. He subtly kicked Vader's boot when he failed to say anything.

"'Morning," Vader mumbled, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the floor.

"Come sit down, sit down." Padmé waved them over.

Obi-Wan gladly did as he was told but Vader was more reluctant. Thankfully Obi-Wan didn't have to force him to move, but the young man moved very slowly and chose a seat as far away as he could get from Padmé without being blatantly rude. And he had yet to look Padmé in the eye.

"Now tell me, what have you been up to?" Padmé asked curiously.

When Vader remained silent, Obi-Wan reluctantly took up the slack of the conversation. "Well…"

* * *

While Sabé was glad to see that Vader hadn't completely lost his mind through guilt, his silence was driving her crazy. Aside from his one word greeting, he hadn't said a thing to anyone since arriving. His eyes were fixed firmly on the floor, his boots, or his folded hands. He had yet to even glance at any part of Padmé for a second. This would not do at all. 

If Vader didn't look up and open his mouth, there was no way that he and Padmé could resolve anything that was between them. And with Obi-Wan to hold Padmé's attention, he could get away with his silence indefinitely. Something had to be done.

"Master Kenobi?" She interjected politely in a lull in the conversation.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan blinked, turning to face her.

"Could you help me with something?" Sabé asked politely with a hopeful smile. _You'd better say yes!_

"Um, yes of course," Obi-Wan replied.

"Thank you," Sabé smiled and left the common room behind.

Her smile became a wicked smirk as she approached the lift with Obi-Wan following her. She fought not to giggle at Obi-Wan's confused expression as she brought him into the lift and pressed the button that would bring them down to the main lobby. The instant the doors closed, cutting them off from Padmé and Vader, Obi-Wan voiced the question she knew he had.

"What exactly is it that you need help with?" Obi-Wan inquired curiously.

"You, Master Jedi, are going to help me kill and hour or two while they talk." Sabé smiled sweetly.

Obi-Wan opened, then closed his mouth. "You are surprisingly devious." He finally commented.

"Thank you," Sabé grinned as the lift came to a stop and the doors opened. "So, have you any time-wasting ideas Master Jedi?"

"Um…" He glanced upwards in the vague direction of Padmé's penthouse. "Are you sure it's a good idea to leave them alone?"

"Yes," Sabé replied decisively, dragging Obi-Wan out of the lift and into the lobby by his arm. "Now that there are no distractions and now that they have some privacy, they'll talk, which is just what they need."

"Alright," Obi-Wan agreed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "So, we need to waste some time… How about a walk? Just see where our feet take us?"

"Genius!" Sabé grinned. "After you Master Jedi."

"No Milady, after you." He smiled, gesturing for her to precede him.

"Ladies first?" Sabé smirked. "Oh, alright."

She gleefully took the lead, bringing Obi-Wan out of the building and onto the street. Since Obi-Wan had surrendered his choice in their 'destination' she was free to pick any place, any direction. And she had a few places in mind…

* * *

Vader wanted to die. He wanted to die, melt into the floor, or somehow be rendered invisible. Or maybe he just wished to be somewhere else, like back on Tatooine with his Mom. He didn't want to be anywhere near Padmé, let alone be back in her apartment again. 

And now it was worse. Obi-Wan had abandoned him. Sabé had stolen him away. Now he was in Padmé's apartment, with Padmé, alone.

_I hate you!_ Vader thought venomously. _I hate you both!_

"Well that was strange," Padmé murmured. "I wonder want Sabé needed help with…"

"She didn't need help with anything." Vader declared, forgetting his plan of keeping his mouth shut until they left.

"How do you know?" Padmé asked curiously.

"Obi-Wan's having fun, that's how I know," Vader replied sourly. "I can feel it."

"Hmm, I see." Padmé muttered. "Well, at least they gave us some privacy, hm?"

"Yeah," Vader grumbled, then paled and started to sweat again. _It's just me and her in here… _

"So, did I get you into trouble?" Padmé asked worriedly.

"Huh?" Vader was so startled by the odd question he finally jerked his head up and looked her in the eye. "What…why…_am_ I in trouble?"

"I don't know, I asked you." Padmé frowned.

"Um, as far as I know, I'm not." Vader squirmed.

"Oh good," Padmé sighed in relief. "I was worried."

"You were worried?" Vader blinked. "Aren't you…mad at me? Just a little bit?"

"What? Of course not!" She snorted. "Why would I be mad at you? You weren't the one who spiked the wine, you just drank it and then took me home. You weren't at fault, not at all. There's nothing for me to be mad about."

He just stared at her slack-jawed, utterly awed by her kindness and forgiveness. _I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this at all…_

The sun peeked through the clouds then, and rays of bright light spilled through the glass ceiling of Padmé's common room. The radiant golden light illuminated her, giving her an ethereal aura. She was beautiful.

"Are you an angel?" The instant the question slipped out, he wanted to kick himself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"What?" Padmé blinked, looking a little shocked.

"N-nothing!" Vader stammered, returning his eyes to her floor. His face felt like it was on fire and it seemed that a swarm of winged insects had settled into his stomach.

"No, really, what did you say?" Padmé asked, moving to sit on the same couch as he was.

"It's nothing," he swallowed anxiously. "It was a dumb question anyway."

"Well, all right…if you say so." Padmé shrugged. "It just reminded me of another question some one asked me a long time ago."

"Oh really?" Vader mumbled faintly. _She…remembers that? …She remembers **me**? Oh…kriff…_

A part of him was elated that she remembered little Anakin Skywalker. One of his secret fears was that she didn't remember him. With all that had been on her mind at the time, the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo, and trying desperately to get to Coruscant, he wouldn't be surprised if the little blonde slave boy slipped her mind. But she _did _remember…

"Yes," Padmé smiled. "Years ago I met this sweet little boy who thought I had to be an angel because I was so pretty." She giggled.

"Cute," Vader gulped, struggling to keep his expression neutral. _I am so dead…_

"Yeah, he was a really adorable child," Padmé agreed. Then she grew worried. "I wonder what ever happened to him…"

Vader didn't reply to that. He couldn't. At least not verbally. _You slept with him, that's what happened!_

"Oh well…" She sighed. "So, are we still friends?"

_Um…_ "Of course," he nodded, nervously glancing over at her. There was an entire seat cushion between them, but he still felt like he was way too close to her. "If you still want me to be…"

The smile she gave him was one of pure relief. "Of course I do!" Then she scooted over to him and embraced him.

Never could he remember feeling so deeply torn. On the one hand, he was happy. Padmé remembered him, and she'd forgiven him for what he'd done. But on the other hand, he felt so guilty and ashamed he wanted to die. She didn't have a clue as to who he really was and he still couldn't find it in himself to tell her. He couldn't shake the fear that when she found out about him that she'd never speak to him again for not saying who he really was sooner, and now for sleeping with her on top of that.

Swallowing hard he hugged her back. _Hold it together Anakin… Stay calm… Behave… _

_ …Oh I am Rancor chow…_

* * *

_Well that was one of the most…interesting…hours of my life…_

Obi-Wan nervously ran his hand through his hair. Again. And was started at how short it felt. Again.

_I'm never going to hear the end of this._ He sighed as they approached Padmé's apartment building. _How did I get talked into this…?_

How he got into this was letting Sabé pick where they went. She led him to her favorite place to shop and then just wandered from shop to shop the entire time. And they talked and the talking was what got him into trouble.

It started out with a simple comment about his hair…

* * *

"You know, I've been wondering…" Sabé murmured as they rested in some shade provided by an overhang. 

"What about?" Obi-Wan asked.

"How does a respected Jedi Master and Council member such as yourself get away with such a scruffy-looking haircut?" Sabé inquired with innocent curiosity.

"What?" Obi-Wan sputtered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this," Sabé replied, reaching over to run her fingers through his shoulder length hair. "It works fine for a simple Jedi Knight, but, I'm sorry, this just doesn't say 'Jedi Master' when I look at it."

"My hair is fine," he reached up and removed her hands from the sides of his head, "just the way it is."

Honestly he'd never thought much about his hair. When he was knighted his mind was more absorbed with the loss of his Master. After leaving Naboo and before he'd transferred to Corellia he was granted two months leave and he used it to hide from the galaxy.

He'd fled to the Mid Rim world of Dantooine and camped out at the ruins of the ancient Jedi training academy that had been razed to the ground during the Great Sith Wars. There he did little else but meditate and grieve. When his leave was up and he returned to the Temple, his hair was longer and he had a beard. Since then all he'd done was trim his beard and keep his hair from getting past his shoulders. And that had always been fine.

Apparently Sabé didn't think so. "Well I suppose if you want to be the scruffy-looking Jedi Master, that's totally up to you." She shrugged.

"I am not 'scruffy-looking.'" Obi-Wan insisted with a scowl.

"What_ever_ you say." Sabé smirked.

"I am not!" Obi-Wan protested.

"Right," Sabé rolled her eyes and turned away from him.

Obi-Wan frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, what sort of style do you think is more fitting then?"

Sabé immediately spun back around with a bright smile. "I have an idea or two…"

* * *

Somehow, from that point, they'd ended up in a hair salon and he got a hair cut. 

He felt a little sorry for the poor stylist who he'd ended up with. The young girl hadn't known what to think when confronted with a Jedi looking for a trim. But, he had to admit, she did a good job following Sabé's instructions.

It was certainly different. Much shorter than he was used to. But it looked nice, very clean and professional.

Then the stylist girl offered to shave off his beard for him too and that's where he drew the line. The beard was important. He saw it as a symbol of wisdom and maturity. Without it, he'd probably look like a Padawan again. That was something he didn't want, even for the few short weeks it would take to grow it back.

So he kept the beard but lost the old hairstyle. Sabé was quite content with this and immediately retracted her previous statements of him looking 'scruffy.' And Obi-Wan was quite satisfied with that.

_Now to get the reactions from Vader and Padmé…_ Obi-Wan sighed as he followed Sabé into the lift. _This is going to be…interesting._

And it was interesting. But not in the way that he expected. When the lift doors opened into Padmé's penthouse apartment, he was pleasantly surprised.

Instead of finding an upset Vader who was begging to leave, he was pleased to find a much calmer young man. He could still sense strong feelings of anxiety and hints of guilt in Vader, but other than that, he was cool, calm, and collected. Obi-Wan found him sitting next to Padmé and looking through a holo-album with her.

Obi-Wan smiled, glad to see that they seemed to have at least started to resolve things. But then his smile faded when he glanced at the wall chrono. If they didn't leave soon, they'd be late for their flight to the Outer Rim.

"Having fun?" Obi-Wan inquired, leaning against the entryway to the common room.

The both of them gave a guilty start and spun around to face him.

"Um…" Vader squirmed nervously.

"Yes," Padmé shrugged cheerfully, looking a tad embarrassed.

"Magnificent!" Sabé gushed, clasping her hands together in glee. "I'm glad!"

"So did you two have fun?" Vader asked. From his expression, Obi-Wan could tell that he hadn't been thrown by Sabé's devious efforts to get him alone with Padmé.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded.

"Mm-hm," Sabé grinned.

Vader frowned, like he'd expected them to deny it or desperately change the subject. Then he caught sight of the time and sighed. "We have to leave, don't we?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, "unless you want to be late, of course."

Vader shook his head wearily and stood up from the couch.

"We certainly can't have that," Padmé remarked, setting aside the holo-album and standing up to properly see them off.

At the lift doors Padmé embraced Obi-Wan first and then gave Vader the same treatment. Sabé did the opposite, giving Vader an enthusiastic hug first and then switching with Padmé to give Obi-Wan a more restrained embrace. Obi-Wan accepted the attention gracefully as always and struggled not to laugh as Vader much more awkwardly handled things. The poor young man couldn't help but blush at the hugs he received from the two beautiful women.

"Now you two take care of yourselves." Padmé commanded sternly, though she was smiling as she spoke.

"Come back in as good of condition as you left." Sabé added solemnly, also with a little smile.

"As you wish," Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "We shall do our best."

"Bye," Vader waved simply with a silly half-smile.

Then they were in the lift again on their way back down to the lobby.

* * *

Vader leaned against the handrail and sighed. While he was relieved to be out of Padmé's presence without having embarrassed himself, he was also sad to be leaving. In an hour or two he'd be gone from Coruscant again, off to the Outer Rim for Force-only-knew how long, and she would stay here and wrangle with the other politicians. 

_I'm going to miss her,_ Vader thought. _Not that I didn't miss her before when I went away, but…I'll miss her more now… Stupid Vorski…_

He briefly glanced up at the roof of the lift car and the swiftly receding penthouse apartment beyond. _I think that…I think I love her,_ he decided at last. When he'd been younger, and still on Tatooine, he'd been sure that he loved her. But he was just a stupid kid then, he hadn't known any other love than the love he had for his mother and his friends. Now he knew a little better and was hesitant to rush in and declare to himself (and certainly to anyone else) that he was in love with Padmé Amidala Naberrie. He'd wait and see a little longer before he made his final decision on the matter…

When the lift reached the main lobby it chimed and the doors hissed open. Obi-Wan was the first to step out and Vader wasn't far behind. As he followed his former Master out of the apartment building and onto the street he noticed something.

"When the heck did you get your hair cut?" Vader gaped in shock.

"Roughly a half hour ago," Obi-Wan replied calmly as he led the way back to the Jedi Temple.

"Sabé stole you away…to give you a haircut?" Vader blinked. _Um…what the heck?_

"No, we went for a walk and talked about some things." Obi-Wan corrected.

"Oh," Vader muttered. _Er…so…how does that lead to getting a haircut?_ Obi-Wan failed to elaborate on his response and Vader wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. "Have I ever told you that you are very strange?" He asked after a while.

"Not lately." Obi-Wan answered.

"Well, you are." Vader grumbled.

Obi-Wan only chuckled at that.

_This is so weird, _Vader frowned. When he'd first met Sabé on Naboo, she didn't seem at all interested in Obi-Wan. In fact, it was almost like she purposely avoided him. Then there were the strange feelings he'd sensed in her after Obi-Wan had 'returned from the dead' after Jabiim. And now they were running off together and getting haircuts. _This makes no sense…no sense at all._

* * *

Padmé sighed as the lift doors closed and her guests disappeared from view. Soon they'd be off planet going to Gods-only-knew where and once again in constant danger. She really wished the war would end soon so they could return to Coruscant and stay longer than a week or two. 

"I hope they can come back soon," Sabé sighed, turning away to return to the common room and the couch.

"Me too," Padmé agreed.

"So what were you showing him?" Sabé asked, eyeing the closed holo-album curiously.

"My favorite pictures," Padmé shrugged. "Some pictures from when Sola and I were little, some from Sola and Darred's wedding, some pictures from my reign as Queen, and some of Ryoo and Pooja when they were little babies. He was especially fascinated by the images I had from my tour of Otoh Gunga," she grinned.

"Ah, Otoh Gunga…that city was beautiful." Sabé smiled in remembrance. "We should go back there sometime, just for fun." She giggled, "Jar Jar could be our tour guide!"

"Yeah," Padmé smiled. "We should try and go back there sometime. And we should invite all the Handmaidens."

"Yeah!" Sabé nodded enthusiastically. "A girls-only trip! Maybe we can get Sola to come too!"

Padmé nodded. "So long as Mom will watch the girls, I think we can persuade Sola to join us." She picked up the holo-album that had been left on the caf table and traced a fingernail over the decorative cover. "It's a nice thing to look forward to…"

"Right," Sabé agreed. "This war better end soon, I want to go on vacation!"

Padmé laughed a little at that declaration. "So, what did you do with Obi-Wan while you two were away?"

"Oh we went for a walk," Sabé replied, "talked about things." She played with her necklace, a nervous gesture that raised Padmé's eyebrow. "I talked him into a haircut."

"Really?" Padmé blinked. She frowned and thought back to her last glimpses of Obi-Wan and then she caught it. "Oh wow, I didn't notice."

"I don't think either of you noticed." Sabé smirked.

"How ever did you manage to talk him into that?" Padmé asked curiously.

"Hmm…I'll tell you later," Sabé decided. "What _I_ want to know is what did I miss while I was out?"

"What do you mean?" Padmé blinked.

"How did Vader go from sitting as far away as possible from you with his mouth sealed shut, to sitting next to you and looking at your favorite pictures?" Sabé elaborated.

"Oh, well…" Padmé shifted on the couch to get a little more comfortable. "I think he was mostly afraid that I was angry with him for what happened. And I guess he found being around me to be awkward, maybe even embarrassing. But once I got it across to him that I wasn't mad at him, he started to relax a bit." She smiled faintly. "And I'm glad. I was afraid he wouldn't be able to stand being near me again after that."

Sabé smiled an almost wicked sort of smile. "So Padmé, what do you think of him?"

"Who?" Padmé blinked.

"Vader of course," Sabé snorted. "So what do you think? Is he any good?"

Padmé blushed at the blunt question and at the faint memory of Vader's lips against the side of her neck. "I…don't know." She swallowed. "It's not like I have extensive experience or anything."

"That's true," Sabé conceded, "but did you enjoy it?"

_Sabé, when did you turn into my sister?_ "Yes," Padmé replied simply, blushing a little darker. She supposed that she should be glad that Sabé had waited for a while to ask these sorts of questions, but she would've _really_ appreciated it if the questions had never been asked at all.

"Good," Sabé smiled.

"Are we done with this little interview yet?" Padmé asked hopefully.

"Just one more, I promise," Sabé assured her. "So, if Vader wasn't a Jedi, would you date him?"

_Well this one isn't so bad…_ Padmé tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I would," she decided.

Sabé looked very pleased. "Ah…now all I have to do is find another man just like him who is actually attainable and…"

"Sabé!" Padmé sputtered is shock.

"Relax Padmé," Sabé smiled cheerfully. "If I can find you a tolerable man to spend time with, it'll keep all the sleaze-bags away. And who knows, you just might hit it off…"

"Okay, let's just take a break from this conversation – from this topic!" Padmé begged. "How about lunch?" She suggested. "I'm starting to get hungry."

"Oh alright," Sabé sighed and glanced at the chrono. "It's a bit early…but I can do lunch."

"Thanks," Padmé sighed in relief.

Sabé giggled and retreated into the kitchen to try and throw something appetizing together. Padmé shook her head at her friend's antics. _Oh Sabé, what am I going to do with you? And what would I ever do without you?_

Padmé stood up from her couch and meandered over to her fountain. She leaned against the edge of the raised pool and glanced out over Coruscant's cluttered horizons. Her gaze unconsciously came to rest on the distant silhouette of the grand Jedi Temple.

_Be well… Be safe… And please…come back soon… _


	56. 55: Guilt

**Chapter 55**  
_Guilt_

Vader lay on his back on the wing of his Eta-2 and stared up at the purple sky. Yes, the _purple sky_. He sighed as a fluffy white cloud slowly drifted over the otherwise clear, though oddly colored, sky.

_Why did they name this place Dantooine?_ He wondered idly. _They could've just named it 'Purple' or 'Violet' or…something else that means purple._

It wasn't just the sky that was purple on Dantooine. The grass of Dantooine's vast prairies and plains was mostly varying shades of purple as was most of the other plant life. And since the vegetation was mainly purple, so was most of the animal life. Essentially, Dantooine was the home-world of the color purple. At least as far as Vader was concerned it was.

His Jedi Starfighter boldly stood out in the bland violet landscape. It had taken some time, but he'd finally tracked down the yellow and white paint he'd been looking for some months ago. And now his Eta-2's yellow and white paint job made it glow, especially in this environment.

It wasn't terribly warm here, even lying in the sun light like he was, but it was heaven compared to the last planet he'd been on. Nelvaan was a world just beginning to descend into an ice age and he'd been in a rather mountainous region, guaranteeing his exposure to cold temperatures and snow. He'd take boring purple everything over ice and snow any time.

Nelvaan had been the site of secret, radical experiments by the Separatists. They wanted to make better soldiers; cyborgs, a melding of flesh and metal, that would be superior to their current droid army. And they'd preyed on the primitive natives of Nelvaan to procure the needed test subjects.

He'd wrecked their plans though, and blown the Separatist's facilities sky-high. He and Obi-Wan had driven them off Nelvaan and it was highly unlikely that they would ever return. And then they'd jetted here, to Dantooine, to relax and recover before they received their next deployment orders.

Letting his eyelids drift closed, he let his mind wander wherever it felt like going…

And the first stop it decided to make was, of course, Padmé. It seemed that he thought of her at least once every day now. He didn't try to stop it anymore, he just tried to keep it clean. It was something to cling to during the dark days, something to keep him going beyond just staying with Obi-Wan and someday returning to his mother.

But, at the same time, when he thought of her, there was guilt. He felt guilt for continually deceiving her, for not divulging his true identity. And he felt guilt for having slept with her. It didn't matter that they'd both been drugged at the time. It still felt so wrong…

Sighing, he wrenched his thoughts to a different topic. And the next topic that came to mind was the mission that came before Nelvaan. The rather infamous debacle of Cato Nemoidia.

The mission had been to land secretly on Cato Nemoidia and capture Nute Gunray, the Viceroy of the Trade Federation. The plan had been simple. The Republic fleet would breach the orbital defenses and cause as much chaos as possible to deflect the attention of the cowardly Nemoidians elsewhere while Obi-Wan, Vader, Commander Cody, and a detachment of clones sought to capture the Federation Viceroy.

Unfortunately, things did not go well at all…

Cato Nemoidia was a strange world. It was a mountainous planet and the valleys were filled with thick, constant mists. It was not the home-world of the Nemoidian species, their home-world was Nemoidia. Cato Nemoidia was a 'purse world,' an old colony world that had become so rich and influential within the Federation that it earned the right to manage its own colonies and have 'Nemoidia' included in its name.

Using the endless valleys and caverns and the constant mists, many Nemoidian clans who settled on Cato Nemoidia built vaults to hold their treasures and wealth. Not wanting to be too close to their treasures and thus give away the locations of their vaults, yet not trusting their security measures enough to live far away, the Nemoidians of Cato Nemoidia made a strange sort of compromise…

All the cities on Cato Nemoidia were built on advanced suspension bridges. Long strips of buildings hung, floating over the misty voids and the hidden vaults they contained. They were marvels of modern engineering that only the super-wealthy denizens of Cato Nemoidia could possibly afford.

The instant they'd made their landing on the bridge that contained Nute Gunray's residence, everything about Cato Nemoidia went against them. The mists were unusually thick and high at the time, shrouding the entire city bridge in hazy gray shadow. And the slow rocking of the bridge in the wind made it difficult to get around for those who weren't used to it.

Then as their force began picking their way towards where Nute Gunray was supposedly holed up, things got worse. Several bounty hunters and mercenaries, hired by the wealthy, cowardly Nemoidians, appeared and hampered their advance. During the ensuing melee, one of the hired thugs somehow managed to hit Obi-Wan with a chemical-laced dart.

Whether the chemical was meant to be a poison or a non-lethal drug of some kind Vader had no idea. He didn't know what the stuff had been. All he knew was that it messed Obi-Wan up badly.

The Jedi Master slipped in and out of consciousness for the rest of the mission and that left the leadership of the operation in his hands. Normally that wouldn't be too much of a problem. He'd send his former Master back to friendly lines with a few clones and continue on as best he could. But here there were no friendly lines, the friendly lines were beyond the limits of the atmosphere and until the fighting died down there was no way to get there.

So, with enemies doing their best to take them out, with the ground swaying beneath their feet, with the air so thick and hazy it was sometimes hard to see a hand held in front of a face, with a drugged and delusional Jedi Master in tow, they forged ahead. When Obi-Wan was unconscious, he was carried. When he was awake, he was a pain in the butt.

Obi-Wan would drunkenly stagger around as the drugs scrambled his brain and babble utter nonsense. He was lost in his own delusional nightmare, cut off from the real world. He wouldn't listen to instructions and kept getting in the way of everything. And just when it got to the point where Vader wanted to strangle him, he'd pass out again.

The mission that was supposed to only take an hour or two dragged out into a nightmare that lasted nearly two days. When they finally reached Nute Gunray's residence and got past the endless security systems, the Nemoidian was long gone. The Federation Viceroy had been smuggled off-planet and past the Republic fleet and was nowhere to be found.

But the cowardly reptile had left something important behind which helped keep their mission from being a total waste. Nute Gunray didn't have time to take his precious crab chair and that particular device held some damning information. Mainly it held recording of transmissions with the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious.

Outside of Vader's own secret report, there was no evidence, no hint at all, that the mysterious figure of Darth Sidious existed. The hidden Sith Master was no more than a shadowy wraith, insubstantial, intangible, and untraceable. While Count Dooku was a known and confirmed Sith Lord, Darth Sidious was just a name of a being that might well have not existed at all.

Now, however, there was solid proof that Darth Sidious _did_ exist. There were low resolution recordings of his voice and image. And buried in the data of the recorded transmissions were other possible clues, like perhaps where the messages had been sent from.

At this very moment the top computer slicers in the Republic were tearing apart those recordings and soon they should have those answers. It was very likely that the general location of Darth Sidious would be discovered. And then the Jedi Order could hunt the old bastard down and take care of him.

Thinking about it made Vader smile slightly.

But his smile quickly faded as his thoughts shifted to a dark rumor that had been circulating through the ranks of the Jedi. Whispers of a monster that killed Jedi and took their lightsabers as gruesome trophies. Rumblings of a creature that might be an alien, might be a super droid, might be a sick melding of the two.

General Grievous, they said his name was. A nightmare given substance and form. He was the new overall commander of all Separatist forces and his brilliant leadership was starting to be felt.

After months of pushing the Separatists back, keeping them on the defensive, the tide was beginning to turn again. Grievous led the Republic forces on a merry little chase through the Outer Rim, sparking siege after siege. What the mysterious droid general was up to was anyone's guess, but it was clear that he did have some sort of plan.

Vader cracked his eyes open and chewed at his lip. _It's because of this Grievous creep that Obi-Wan and I have been out here, skimming the Rim for six months… Six months…yeesh, I'm twenty-two now._ He sighed wearily. _Someone needs to take care of him. I just hope it's not me…_

_

* * *

_

Padmé lay in her bed struggling to wake up so she could get ready in time for today's Senate session. It was hard though. She was so very tired. And it was so hard to move these days.

With a weary groan, she somehow struggled up into a sitting position. From there, she reluctantly wiggled out of bed and made her way to her refresher. She wasn't reduced to waddling yet, but she had the sinking feeling that that was coming soon enough.

She luxuriated under the hot water of her shower, sighing in relief as it loosened some of the kinks and knots in her muscles and joints. When her sister and mother had reminisced about how uncomfortable pregnancy was, she'd always thought they were exaggerating. Now she knew they had been speaking the honest truth all along.

A solid thump at the side of her belly drew her hand immediately. "Hush baby," she murmured distractedly, rubbing her fingertips in lazy circles over the spot. "Hush now."

There were no further kicks (or punches) and her hand dropped back to her side as she continued with her morning routine. She dried off, wrapped herself up in her large bathrobe, and brushed her teeth. After rinsing out her mouth, she left her refresher behind and returned to her bedroom where she started to brush out her damp hair.

"Good morning," Sabé greeted, breezing into the room.

"'Morning," Padmé muttered, struggling not to glare at her friend.

Sabé was already completely ready for the day. She'd gotten her shower out of the way over an hour ago, she was fully dressed, her hair was done, everything. And she looked totally awake. At this moment, she was the complete opposite of her friend and employer.

"You look tired." Sabé commented, taking the brush from Padmé and continued working the snarls out of her hair.

"I feel tired," Padmé sighed, folding her hands over her swollen belly.

"Have you given any more thought to–" Sabé began.

"No, my decision stands," Padmé cut in smoothly. "I can go one more month."

"As you say Milady," Sabé replied neutrally.

Padmé fought to keep her expression calm and stoic as her chest tightened with sorrow. Ever since Padmé had discovered that she was pregnant she and Sabé had been at odds over what she should do about it. Sabé was increasingly against Padmé's course of action and showed it by retreating into her cool, distant, professional Handmaiden persona more and more. It hurt Padmé and made her feel even more isolated that she already did, but she remained firm in her choice. It was for the greater good.

Once Sabé had finished brushing out Padmé's hair, she moved on to dig through the closet in search of a dress for the day. Gone were her sleek but elegant dresses. Now there were only poofy, conical things whose sole purpose was to disguise her condition. They'd done their job well the past few months, but Padmé knew they wouldn't work forever.

"These dresses can't hide it forever." Sabé remarked as she pulled out a dark-colored dress, unconsciously echoing Padmé's thoughts.

"I know," Padmé nodded. "But they will do for one more month, and then I will take a leave from the Senate."

"As you say…" Sabé muttered, her disagreement made painfully clear.

Padmé made no reply and simply stood up to put on the dress that Sabé had selected. It was a tricky procedure most days, but now it was doubly tricky and getting worse with each passing week. But with Sabé's assistance, she managed it.

Moteé arrived then and began to arrange Padmé's still damp hair into its style for the day. She dug out one of the metal-and-wire frames that she could use to hold and shape Padmé's hair and after carefully pinning it into place she started to build the style. When she finished almost an hour later Padmé's hair was twisted into two small buns, one on each side of her head.

"Breakfast is ready," Sabé announced quietly as Moteé adjusted the final hairpins.

Following Sabé into the kitchen, Padmé settled down to eat her large breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, and biscuits. Washing eat bite down with a sip of Shuura juice, she steadily demolished the food placed in front of her. And while she ate, both Sabé and Moteé stood attentively by, waiting.

She felt vaguely embarrassed that she ate so much now. But it was much better than earlier when she still suffered the evil ravages of morning sickness. For the first few months, mornings were hell. Some days it lasted all the way into the afternoon. That had made life decidedly unpleasant for a while.

Once her plate was cleared, Padmé had her make-up done and then took a seat in her common room to wait. There was still one hour left before she had to leave her apartment for the Senate rotunda and she wanted to wait as long as possible before then. In the past, she would leave for the Senate as soon as she was ready. But now she didn't, because when she left the safety and privacy of her home, she was on stage, acting like nothing had changed when in truth _everything_ had changed.

No one, aside from herself, Captain Typho, Sabé, Moteé, and Ellé, knew that she was pregnant. No one. Not her mother. Not her father. Not her sister. Not her brother-in-law. Not her nieces. And certainly not Vader. No one at all.

They couldn't know. It wasn't that she didn't trust her family with this information. But if she told them, she had the sinking feeling that they would react the same way Sabé had upon hearing her plan of action. And she didn't want that.

Her plan for dealing with her pregnancy was very simple. To avoid a messy scandal that would only make getting her work done more difficult than it already was, she hid her pregnancy. Most of the tabloids were certain she was pregnant and were throwing around all sorts of ridiculous candidates for the father, but she didn't care. They were tabloids. So long as those sorts of stories stayed out of more respected and credible publications, she was happy.

When it was impossible for her to hide her pregnancy anymore and continue to work effectively, she would take a leave of absence from Senate duty, citing extreme exhaustion and mental fatigue. She would then return to Naboo, tell her family that she was with child, and vanish to the remote Lake Country and the isolated estate of Varykino. And there she would give birth in complete secrecy, with only chosen family and friends present.

After the birth, a single blood test would determine her next step. If the child possessed a high enough midichlorian count, she would arrange for it to be anonymously delivered to the Jedi Temple. If the resulting infant didn't make the cut to be a Jedi, she would keep it and forge the paperwork necessary to prove that she had adopted it, not given birth to it.

It was a risky plan. And it was deceptive. She didn't like it at all. But it was the best way – and as far as she was concerned, the only way – to do this. She had no desire to be at the center of some ridiculous media frenzy as reporters rudely speculated just who the beautiful, young, _unwed_ Nabooan Senator had joined with to create her child. Nor did she wish to draw any scandal down on the Jedi Order.

Sabé did not agree with this plan. She wanted Padmé to admit her condition to her family now. And she wanted Padmé to take her secret maternity leave last month. She feared that Padmé was compromising her health and safety with her secrecy and she wanted her to return to Naboo now so she could take better care of herself.

Padmé hated to admit it, but it was difficult to sneak off and visit her medical droid for her prenatal check-ups. However she made it to all the necessary appointments. And while the droid was forbidden to share anything but the bare minimum of information concerning the fetus (like the gender, she wanted to be surprised), it had reported no complications whatsoever to her.

Sighing, Padmé leaned back and gazed upwards through the glass ceiling of her common room. The early morning high clouds were beginning to dissipate, revealing the steel blue sky. But…something was off…

_What are those flashes?_ Padmé squinted and stood up from her seat on her couch. Every few seconds there were faint flashes of light just barely visible through the haze of the atmosphere. Padmé had lived on Coruscant for four, nearly five years, and she'd never seen anything like this.

"Sabé, what do you think that is?" Padmé frowned.

"What do I think what is?" Sabé inquired.

"That," Padmé pointed up through the ceiling. "Those weird little flashes."

"Oh," Sabé moved to stand next to her to get a better view. "I have no idea. What do you think Moteé?"

"I can't say," Moteé murmured. "I'd say lightning but…that's not lightning."

The three of them stood there, staring through the glass ceiling at the faint light show, trying to figure out just what the heck it was. It definitely wasn't lightning. So what was it?

"Oh look at that," Sabé breathed.

A mass of specks had appeared in the sky. They started out very tiny and didn't seem to move much. But then after five minutes or so, the specks grew rapidly in size and they darted all over the sky.

They were spacecraft, a few armored shuttles and some starfighters. But they weren't _Republic_ vessels. And as the mysterious ships rocketed across the Coruscanti skyline towards the domed Senate rotunda, one of the ships collided with some traffic lanes and then slammed into a distant skyscraper, spewing a trail of black smoke as it fell.

"Padmé!" Captain Typho panted as he burst into the apartment. "We need to leave!"

"Captain," Padmé interjected calmly as she stared at the burning skyscraper a few miles away. "What's going on?"

"We need to get to a lower level," Typho declared. "The Separatists are here and they're attacking the Senate!"

* * *

Vader left his Eta-2 behind in favor of visiting the little tent camp that had sprung up near the overgrown ruins of some ancient Jedi academy that had been destroyed thousands of years ago. It was a very temporary sort of camp, thrown up by a few handfuls of Jedi who were catching a day or two's rest between deployments. Since there was so little time for rest these days, many Jedi had taken to pitching these little camps in wild areas of planets near Republic lines but not involved in the war.

Picking his way through the knee-high purple grass, he came upon the scattered group of seven tents and paused to look around. In the center of the ragged circle of tents crouched a thrown-together communication antenna. So long as there was a single Jedi hanging out here on Dantooine, the makeshift comm 'tower' would stay there.

The tents that made up the little camp were an interesting bunch. They'd been designed for different environments. Some were meant for snow covered worlds, others for rocky barren worlds, and others for lush jungles. And so their wildly varying designs and color schemes stood out like a bunch of Wookiees in a Jawa camp against the dull violet of Dantooine's grasslands.

The Jedi who populated the camp were just as varied. Vader was one of four Humans present, and the rest were a mix of alien races. The camp residents were mainly doing two things here, sleeping or meditating.

Obi-Wan was not meditating, Vader noticed, but was being a worry-wart and was plugged into the comm antenna, listening to something. Rolling his eyes, he turned away and wandered off towards one particular corner of the camp. There sat Ferus Olin and Siri Tachi.

Apparently Siri was still not speaking to Obi-Wan and all she did to Vader was cast suspicious glances his way. Not at all interested in dealing with her, his target was the oh-so-proper Ferus Olin. Ferus was freshly knighted, having his braid hacked off by the old troll just over a month ago, and was still getting used to the whole thing.

"Hey Ferus, how are you?" Vader inquired cheerfully, flopping to the ground across from him and startling him out of his light meditation.

"Huh?" Ferus started. Once he recognized Vader he scowled slightly. "What do you want?" He asked suspiciously.

"Just to talk," Vader smiled innocently.

Ferus eyed him critically for a minute before nodding slowly. "Fine." And then he got up and started to walk away.

_Oh come on, I just sat down!_ Vader grumbled and got up to follow. "So, how are you?"

"I'm all right," Ferus shrugged, still walking away from the camp and the curious gaze of his former Master.

"Well," Vader sighed, "that's good…" _I guess._

Ferus walked for a while before he came to a stop, his dark eyes fixed on a bush near the horizon. "Can I talk to you about something?"

_Oh…this is serious…_ "Sure," Vader nodded.

"Do you promise to keep this confidential?" Ferus asked, turning to fix Vader with a hard look.

_Really serious…like I don't have enough secrets already._ "Of course," Vader promised.

Ferus shifted around nervously as he struggled to pull his nerve together to share whatever dark secret he had that was plaguing his conscience. "Well…um…it-it's about Darra… I–"

There was a sharp whistle and a brief tug at his mind. Vader swung his head around to see Obi-Wan bolting out of the camp and towards where they'd parked their starfighters. Apparently they were leaving.

"Sorry Ferus, looks like I got to run." Vader apologized, sprinting after Obi-Wan. "I'll catch you later!" He called over his shoulder.

He would've liked to stay and hear just what Ferus had to say about Darra, but this seemed to be an emergency. Obi-Wan never ran anywhere unless it was an emergency or they were in the middle of a mission and running was required. Judging by the speed at which Obi-Wan was running, it was a big emergency.

Vader caught up with him just as he was diving into the cockpit of his red and white Eta-2. Annoyed at missing his chance to ask Obi-Wan what the heck was going on, Vader hoped into his own starfighter and hurried to start it up. The instant he got his headset on and plugged into his console, he called Obi-Wan.

"So what's the rush?" Vader asked as he warmed up the engines and Artoo ran a quick systems check.

_"Emergency over Coruscant,"_ Obi-Wan replied tersely, his voice a little distorted over the ship's comm.

"That's informative," Vader muttered dryly in annoyance.

_"General Grievous has attacked Coruscant."_ Obi-Wan elaborated as they climbed up through the violet-tinged atmosphere towards the blackness of space. _"He struck the Senate building and has just kidnapped the Chancellor."_

"Oh," Vader blinked as Artoo plotted the quickest hyperspace route back to Coruscant. And then that information sank in… "Oh crap!"


	57. 56: Battle of Coruscant

**Chapter 56**  
_Battle_ _of Coruscant_

Vader clutched the joystick of his starfighter so tightly that the knuckles on his left hand blanched pure white as he made the transition out of hyperspace. The writhing mists of hyperspace resolved back down to pinpricks of stars and the round glittering orb of Coruscant in less than two blinks of the eye. From their approach vector everything looked calm. So calm in fact that Vader wondered if they were too late and the Separatists had managed to make good their escape.

But Obi-Wan knew exactly where they were going and led him away from the glittering night side of Coruscant towards the day side. As they rounded the sphere of the city-planet it instantly became clear that the Separatists had not yet fled the system with their prize. The battle was still in full swing, showing no signs of being won by either side.

Deadly wedge-shaped Star Destroyers with bold crimson stripes were intermingled with the lumpy tubular and ringed spherical designs of Confederacy battle cruisers that were trimmed in blue. They fired viciously at one another as the Republic Star Destroyers sought to pin the invading Confederate fleet against the atmosphere and trap them in Coruscant's gravity well while the Confederacy ships struggled to break free and escape. And between the two sides of battling titans swarms of tiny fighter ships tried to destroy each other and sting the flanks of the giants around them. It was chaos.

As they drew near the hellish sea of fire, energy beams, and destruction, Vader couldn't help himself. He grinned a wicked grin as a surge of anticipatory adrenalin was released into his veins and leaned forward in his seat. This challenging flight was going to be so exciting!

"This is where the fun begins!"

* * *

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as Vader's comment reached him over the comm net. _Trust him to find fun in a dangerous situation,_ he sighed. _Typical…_

Clenching his teeth, he led his young friend into the fire. All around them there was roiling destruction. Expanding balls of fiery plasma were fleeting death markers for droid and clone fighters. Massive capital ships lurched around them in slow-motion ballets, shuddering with each impact and spewing misty atmosphere from jagged gashes.

Vader located their target, Grievous' flagship, the _Invisible Hand_. As they streaked towards it, a squadron of clone-piloted ARC-170s formed up behind them. The heavy fighters were crewed by three clones each: a pilot, a forward gunner, and a tail gunner. At Obi-Wan's command, they all locked their S-foils into the attack position and lunged forward to meet the swarm of Vulture droids that defended their target.

It was carnage. The ARC-170s drew most of the fire and Vader wanted to turn back and help them, but Obi-Wan nixed the idea quickly. They all had jobs to do, the clones were there to assist, and they were there to rescue the Chancellor. But as they continued on towards the _Hand_, something else decided to get in their way.

After narrowly evading some heat-seeking missiles, they encountered a small field of spheres. They were too small to be mines and as Obi-Wan and Vader swooped a bit closer to them to avoid some laser fire, the spheres began to move. Obi-Wan cringed with dread as he realized just what they were now dealing with.

"_Buzz droids,"_ Vader cursed over the comm. "_Wonderful!"_

_My thoughts exactly,_ Obi-Wan sighed to himself as he engaged in some evasive maneuvers. While Vader managed to shake his tiny pursuers, Obi-Wan was not so fortunate. The spheres popped open, revealing the almost insectoid droids that crawled all over his starfighter, attacking it with their cutting lasers. "Blast!" He cursed. "They're all over me!"

"_Move to the right so I can get a clear shot,"_ Vader called.

_Get a clear shot at what?_ Obi-Wan wondered as he obligingly moved to the right. "Arfour, what out you've got–" He stopped mid-sentence as Arfour's ruby-colored sensor dome was sliced off by an attacking Buzz droid. "Oh no," he sighed, "I'm starting to lose my controls."

"_Try to hold still,"_ Vader requested calmly.

"Vader, just forget about me," Obi-Wan scowled as he wrestled with the controls. "Get to the ship, rescue the Chancellor!"

"_In a minute," _Vader assured him. And then he opened fire.

"Hold your fire!" Obi-Wan choked as Vader blasted the Buzz droids on his left wing – and the left wing itself – away. "You're not helping!" He snapped as it became even more difficult to fly his crippled fighter. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"_Sorry," _Vader apologized. "_Bad idea. Just hold still for a minute."_

"What? I can't see a thing!" Obi-Wan complained. "My cockpit's fogging up!" He hissed as his life support systems began to fail.

"_Just hold still…"_ Vader muttered.

"I'm running out of tricks here!" Obi-Wan growled as the joystick rattled in his hands. "Leave me and go on ahead, finish the mission!"

"_I'm not leaving without you!"_ Vader snapped back.

And then Vader's new idea for dealing with the Buzz droids became painfully clear as his starfighter slammed into Obi-Wan's. He cursed under his breath as Vader used the wing of his starfighter as a scraper to scratch the Buzz droids off. It was surprisingly effective, except for one unexpected side-effect.

A single Buzz droid survived the unconventional attack and clambered onto Vader's starfighter. It scampered around the yellow and white starfighter before it decided to attack Artoo. Obi-Wan's attention was now split three ways: he had to try and fly his dying starfighter, he had to watch out through his fogged cockpit to make sure he was going the right way and wasn't going to crash into anything, and now he had to watch and see if Artoo would make it.

"_Get it Artoo!"_ Vader encouraged the little droid who was defending itself with a dome-mounted shock probe.

"Artoo, aim for the center eye," Obi-Wan suggested.

"_Alright Artoo!"_ Vader cheered as Artoo hit the center eye and short-circuited the entire attacker.

"Great," Obi-Wan sighed a bit less enthusiastically. "I can't see anything, you go on without me."

"_I'm not leaving you Master,"_ Vader snorted. "_Just stay on my wing, I'll lead you in. We're almost there."_

Obi-Wan sighed deeply and did his best to follow Vader's fighter, squinting through the white fog that obscured his view. "Did you remember to take out the hanger shields?"

"_Um, hold on a minute," _Vader grumbled.

There was the sound of a muffled explosion and then Obi-Wan choked on a curse as his starfighter crashed into the deck of the hanger. Clenching his teeth against the horrible scraping sounds as his crippled Eta-2 skidded over the floor, he hit the emergency override on his hatch and loosened his seat restraints. Waiting for a moment more, he leapt up and out of his fighter. He lit his saber in mid-air, landed a tad clumsily as he wasn't completely able to compensate for all of his momentum, and immediately began slicing through the battle droids that were guarding the hanger.

_Oh I have a bad feeling about this…_

_

* * *

_

Vader grinned as he hacked down the last battle droid in the hanger and then jogged over to Obi-Wan's side. He swallowed a snicker as he recalled his former Master's rather dramatic entry into battle, exploding from his fighter and flipping end over end and then landing and killing a droid in the same instant. As he reached Obi-Wan, Artoo caught with him and started searching for a place to jack in.

"Here," Obi-Wan directed as he located an information jack. "Locate the Chancellor."

Artoo obediently hooked up to the _Invisible Hand_'s computer and began to search. In a few minutes, he turned his dome to the side and projected a holographic map of the ship. There was a blinking red dot at the highest point of the ship on the back fin.

"There he is," Obi-Wan murmured, "on the observation deck. Let's go."

Vader nodded, then shuddered as he picked up something. "I sense Dooku," he swallowed anxiously. _Stang._

"I sense a trap," Obi-Wan countered as he gave the projected map a last minute look-over.

"Next move?" Vader asked worriedly.

"Spring the trap," Obi-Wan smirked and headed for the door.

Vader rolled his eyes at Obi-Wan's strange theatrics. _You're so weird…_ He started after Obi-Wan and Artoo started after him. "No Artoo, stay here," Vader ordered. Artoo had already come close to being slagged once this mission, he really didn't want to risk it a second time and piss Padmé off.

"Here," Obi-Wan tossed Artoo a spare comm-link, "take this and wait for orders."

Artoo caught the little device and whistled in disappointment, but obediently rolled back to wait for any further instructions.

Still nervous about feeling the subtle pall of Darkness he sensed connected to Dooku, Vader strode after Obi-Wan. As they hurried down the ship's corridors they almost immediately ran into a couple Destroyers. Not having the time or energy to try and break through their shields, they fled into a lift and punched the key for the deck they needed.

"Drop your weapons!" A buzzing droid voice ordered from behind them.

_What the heck?_ Vader frowned, glancing over at Obi-Wan. _This lift was empty when we jumped in it…right?_

"I said drop 'em!" The droid repeated.

_Yeah right,_ Vader snorted, whirling around with Obi-Wan to cut down the battle droids that occupied the lift with them.

"That was interesting," Vader muttered after they finished. Then the lift suddenly ground to a halt. "And this is bad."

"Did you press the stop button?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"No, did you?" Vader wondered.

"No," Obi-Wan muttered worriedly.

Vader sighed and eyed the lift car ceiling speculatively. "Well," he drew his saber again and relit it, "there's more than one way out of here." He then began to cut a man-sized hole.

"We don't want to get out, we want to get up." Obi-Wan grumbled, fishing out his comm-link. "Artoo. Artoo, do you copy? Activate elevator," he glanced up at the number, "31174."

A circular chunk of the ceiling dropped down and Vader leapt up through the new hole. It would take too long for Artoo to get this thing working, he didn't want to wait, he just wanted to get through this mess and get back to Coruscant. But then the lift car suddenly dropped down from under his feet and he barely caught the edge of a ledge.

_Oh great, now what?_ Vader sighed as he dangled there.

"Hands up Jedi!" Another battle droid demanded.

Vader glanced up to see a pair of droids looming over him with their blasters drawn and pointed at his head.

_I just had to ask, didn't I?_

* * *

Obi-Wan yelped as the lift suddenly rocketed downwards, nearly throwing him off his feet. "Artoo, we need to be going up, not down!" He muttered into the comm-link. The lift almost immediately came to a dead stop, this time actually knocking Obi-Wan off his feet. And then the lift started back up again, going in the right direction this time. "Now that's better," he sighed, standing up and brushing himself off. 

There was a thud behind him and, still a bit rattled from the jerky lift ride, he spun around with his saber drawn. "Oh," Obi-Wan blinked as he was confronted with a startled looking Vader, "it's you." He cringed in embarrassment and put his lightsaber away.

"What was that all about?" Vader frowned, confused.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Well Artoo has been–"

"No loose wire jokes," Vader scowled, cutting Obi-Wan off. "He's doing the best he can."

"Did I say anything?" Obi-Wan asked innocently.

"He's trying," Vader grumbled in annoyance.

"I didn't say anything!" Obi-Wan protested. _Ah, I've been picking on Artoo too much lately…_ When things went wrong and Senator Amidala's droid was involved he liked to teasingly dump the blame on the Astromech, but Vader, it appeared, was getting tired of it.

They completed the lift ride in tense silence. This was an obvious trap and despite his earlier bravado about 'springing the trap' he knew that this would be one of the most dangerous missions yet. Dooku was a powerful and dangerous enemy, getting past him and getting the Chancellor to safety would be difficult to say the least.

The lift came to a stop, this time at the right level, and they exited out onto the observation deck. The place lived up to its name and was filled with enormous windows that gave a spectacular view of the vicious battle that was still raging around them. Across the room from the lift was Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, bound to a chair by his wrists.

As Obi-Wan strode over to the elderly man, he noted that the politician appeared to be completely unharmed by his kidnappers. He sat calmly in his seat, staring stoically ahead. Obi-Wan reached the Chancellor and bowed in greeting.

"Chancellor," he murmured politely, reaching up to release the cuffs that held him in place.

The Chancellor seemed oblivious to the polite greeting. "Count Dooku," he warned softly, nodding to a spot behind them.

Obi-Wan and Vader turned and, sure enough, Dooku was there, staring down at them from an upper balcony.

"This time we will do it together," Obi-Wan told Vader as they prepared to do battle with the Fallen Jedi Master. He didn't want the young man to rush in like he had on Geonosis.

"I was just about to say that." Vader grumbled.

"Get help!" Palpatine called from behind them. "You're no match for him. He's a Sith Lord!"

"Chancellor Palpatine, Sith Lords are our specialty." Obi-Wan assured him. _Please don't tell us how to do our jobs._

"Your swords please, Master Jedi," Dooku called down from the high balcony in his deep velvety voice. "We don't want to make a mess of things in front of the Chancellor." Smirking arrogantly, he leapt over the railing and somersaulted down to the deck, striding to meet them.

"You won't get away this time Dooku," Obi-Wan decided as he brought his lightsaber up to the ready.

"I've been looking forward to this," Dooku chuckled darkly, activating his crimson-bladed saber.

"I bet you have," Vader snorted, snapping on his own weapon.

The duel began then, and since it was a two-on-one they had much better chances of winning it this time. Still, despite having two separate opponents, Dooku easily held his own. His elegant red blade deflected their strikes with little effort and Obi-Wan began to feel a tad worried.

"Your moves are too clumsy Kenobi, too predictable." Dooku sneered. "You'll have to do better than this."

Obi-Wan made no reply and instead focused all of his energy on finding an opening he could exploit. Before he could land any real hits he found himself flying through the air and crashing into a wall. Shaking it off as best he could, he charged back into the fray, cutting through a pair of battle droids who had just arrived on the scene as he went.

Vader was the next to be thrown aside by a Force-push from the Sith Lord. He too crashed into a wall, but got up quickly and came right back. But his assistance wasn't enough.

Not even half a minute after that, Obi-Wan was thrown again. This time the impact was worse and Obi-Wan cracked his head hard. As he tumbled to the floor, things grew fuzzy, then dark.

_Oh…blast…_

* * *

Vader charged Dooku again after the Sith had tossed his former Master into the wall. But he wasn't fast enough to stop the old bastard from collapsing a catwalk over Obi-Wan's back. Snarling, he lunged at the old man before he could do anymore damage. 

He hacked away at the bastard, taking a more aggressive stance in an attempt to end the fight quicker. Fighting Dooku _alone_ was not something he wanted to do. A ghost of his old fear was slowly rising up in the back of his mind and his damaged right arm grew cold.

"I sense great fear in you, my boy." Dooku commented. "You have hate, you have anger, but you don't use them. Why not?"

Vader growled and put even more power into his strikes. _Shut up!_ He kicked out at Dooku and managed to knock him off the raised platform they'd worked their way onto.

He kept up his assault, refusing to let Dooku regain his equilibrium. With each strike he felt his anger build. It was Dooku who had sparked this horrible war. It was Dooku who had stolen him away from his mother. Dooku was the visible threat and Vader intended to take care of him.

When Dooku lost his footing, Vader took full advantage of it. He brought his blade right through Dooku's wrists, severing his hands. _There, how do you like it?_ Vader thought viciously as he called Dooku's curved saber hilt into his left hand.

Lighting Dooku's weapon again, he held it and his own saber up to Dooku's neck, the red and blue blades crossing to form a scissor-like weapon. He stared down coldly at the maimed and kneeling Sith Lord. Dooku stared up at him with an expression that Vader had never seen before, one of pure fear.

Never had Dooku ever been afraid of him. Always he'd looked down on Vader with disgust, disdain, hatred, cold disinterest, vicious amusement. But never was there any hint of fear. Now that was all that Vader saw.

_You so deserve this!_ He glared angrily. _But…_ He slowly started to lower the blades. _I'm better than you._

"Good, very good," he heard the Chancellor say in a rather strained odd sort of voice. "Kill him," she said suddenly, "kill him now."

Vader was so startled he almost turned away from Dooku to stare at the Chancellor. "Excuse me?" _What?_

"Kill him!" Palpatine insisted stiffly.

Dooku looked just as shocked as Vader felt. He glanced over at the Chancellor, then back at Vader. His expression twisted into one of fearful rage and he suddenly lunged towards the still bound politician.

Caught off-guard without any time to think about what he was doing, Vader brought his blades back up and cleanly decapitated the Count. It was a purely knee-jerk, reflexive reaction. But once his brain caught up with what he'd just done, he dropped the Count's saber and took a few steps back from the freshly minted corpse.

_Oh shit!_ He swallowed anxiously. _I didn't mean to do that! He was totally unarmed…literally!_

"You did well," the Chancellor told him, his tone now reassuring. "He was too dangerous to be kept alive."

_How was he dangerous?_ Vader wondered anxiously, whipping his head around to stare the still imprisoned Chancellor._ I had just hacked off both his hands!_

"He was unarmed, helpless," Vader pointed out as he struggled to get himself back together. "Killing him was uncalled for," he unhappily admitted as he released the binders from Palpatine's wrists.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Palpatine shrugged as he rubbed at his wrists. "Count Dooku has killed countless numbers of your fellow Jedi. You merely ended the threat to your comrades."

_Whatever,_ Vader frowned. _You've worked with the Jedi Order for years and you still don't understand how we work?_

"Now we must leave before more security droids arrive." Palpatine declared, striding for the lifts.

Vader scowled suspiciously at the Chancellor as he slowly followed. _He's really calm for an old guy who was just kidnapped, witnessed a crazy duel, and saw a guy get killed right in front of him…_

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the room and glance over to the side. _Ah, Obi-Wan! I forgot!_ He winced and scurried over to his former Master who was still crumpled on the deck underneath the collapsed catwalk.

Checking Obi-Wan over, he found that the older man was fine, aside from being unconscious. Pausing for a moment to concentrate, he levitated the crushed catwalk slightly and moved it aside so he could get to his Master. Just as he got him free, the Chancellor decided to meddle again.

"There's no time," Palpatine decided. "We must get off the ship before it's too late."

Vader just turned and stared at the man, doing nothing to disguise his shocked confusion. _Whoa, whoa, whoa… Are **you**_ telling **_me_**_ to leave **him**…**behind**?_

"Leave him," Palpatine ordered when Vader didn't move, "or we'll never make it!"

_Okay, that's it._ Vader narrowed his eyes before turning away. **_You_**_ do not tell **me** what to do._ He carefully began to heft the unconscious Obi-Wan over his shoulders._ I am the rescue-**er**, you are the rescue-**e**._ He stood up, staggering a bit under Obi-Wan's weight before finding his balance._ I save you; you shut up and be good._ He turned and strode determinedly towards the lifts.

"Now we can leave," he muttered under his breath just quietly enough so that the Chancellor couldn't hear.

He marched over to the lifts at the back of the observation deck and pressed the call button. The Chancellor stood next to him, looking a tad disgruntled and almost disappointed. When the lift failed to appear after a few minutes, Vader swallowed a groan. _Oh crap._

Shifting Obi-Wan slightly, he pulled out his comm-link and called Artoo. "Artoo, activate elevator 3224." Nothing happened. "Artoo, do you copy?" Still nothing. "Artoo, come in!" _Still_ nothing.

Before he could yell at Artoo again, something really bad happened. The entire ship started to roll over, turning the walls into the floors. Somehow managing to keep his balance through the crazy roll, he forced open the lift doors and led the Chancellor down the shaft.

_This is bad._ He sighed. _This. Is. **Bad**. I'm having flashbacks to Cato Nemoidia here…_

But then it got even worse. The ship rolled back to its proper position while they were still running down the lift shaft. Before he could get them out of there, it tilted so much they slid, and then fell.

Vader managed to catch himself and his cable before he plummeted to his death. Obi-Wan's added weight put incredible strain on his right arm, especially at the point where his prosthetic was connected to the rest of him. And then Palpatine grabbed a hold of his leg and made it worse.

_Oh **ow**!_ He grimaced, struggling to hold onto the cable and Obi-Wan at the same time. _You know, this would be a really good time for you to wake up Obi-Wan… (You hear me? Wake up!)_ He sent for good measure.

Obi-Wan didn't wake up though. Instead, he started to slip and slide as the _Invisible Hand_'s artificial gravity (and Coruscant's gravity on top of that) kept pulling downwards…

"Master?" Vader hissed in alarm. "_Master?_" He hissed louder as he started to feel his panic building and Obi-Wan still slipping. "_Master!_"

"Ah-WAH!" Obi-Wan yelped, abruptly regaining consciousness and squirming back upwards and wrapping his arms around Vader's neck.

"Easy," Vader muttered anxiously as he fought to catch his breath. "We're in a bit of a situation."

"Did I miss something?" Obi-Wan asked dazedly. "What is that?" He inquired, gazing upwards.

"Uh-oh," Vader gulped as he saw the lift car rapidly descending. "Artoo!" He called into the comm-link he could now use that one of his hands was free. "Artoo shut down the elevator!"

"Too late! Jump!" Obi-Wan ordered and let go.

Swallowing, Vader did the same. As he fell, he yanked his grappling hook from his belt and used it to swing through an open lift door and skid across the floor. Obi-Wan had done the same and the Chancellor had somehow managed to keep clinging to his leg throughout the whole mess.

_Aw man…_ Vader panted as he laid on the deck for a moment. _I so need a vacation…_

* * *

Obi-Wan had the lead again, now that he was once more conscious, and led Vader and the Chancellor towards the hanger bay in search of something flyable that they could escape in. His head throbbed something awful, but it was much better than being dead. But what would be the best, would be for them all to make it off the _Invisible Hand _alive. 

"Artoo," he heard Vader call into the comm-link, "get down here. Artoo, do you copy?"

_I can't believe Vader took the Chancellor down the lift shaft._ Obi-Wan snorted as the jogged down the corridor. _He really must learn to be more patient. He–_

Obi-Wan skidded to a stop just as a circle of ray shields sprang to life around them. The hazy white energy field looked pretty, but it was very dangerous. Touching it could deliver a shock, perhaps a shock big enough to kill.

"Ray shields!" Vader hissed in frustration.

"Wait a minute," Obi-Wan frowned as he studied the writing pattern of the energy field, "how did this happen? We're smarter than this!"

"Apparently not," Vader snorted.

"I'm open to suggestions here," Obi-Wan sighed as he tried to think past his lingering headache.

"I say…patience." Vader decided.

"Patience?" Obi-Wan blinked. _What?_ "That's your plan, is it?"

"Yes, Artoo will be along in a few minutes and he'll release the ray shields." Vader declared confidently.

Then, to Obi-Wan's amazement, Artoo _did_ appear. The little blue Astromech skidded into the corridor with an alarmed squeal and crashed into the wall. Artoo reoriented himself, shook his sensor dome a bit, then chirped cheerfully when he caught sight of them.

"See?" Vader smirked. "No problem."

And then a small army of battle droids marched into view. Artoo zapped one with his shock probe, but got smacked on his 'head' for his trouble. There was no escape now.

"Do you have a plan B?" Obi-Wan asked in annoyance.

* * *

Vader seethed as he was marched to the bridge by the battle droids who had captured them. Obi-Wan, Artoo, and the Chancellor were there too. He and the other two Humans had binder on their wrists and he and Obi-Wan's lightsabers had been confiscated. 

_This is humiliating._ Vader sighed as they reached the bridge. _Caught by ray shields and a bunch of dumb droids…_

He stiffened up as they came out onto the bridge and were confronted by the Separatist general. Grievous was tall…very tall. Made of bone-white durasteel, he was a hulking creature draped only in a grayish cloak. When he turned to face them, a pair of slit-pupiled yellow eyes stared out of the shadowy sockets of a skull-like mask at them. He was an alien and a droid…a cyborg.

"Ah yes…General Kenobi," General Grievous drawled in a deep, synthesized voice, coughing and wheezing a bit. "The Negotiator. We've been waiting for you. That wasn't much of a rescue." He sneered contemptuously. The cat-like yellow eyes shifted to Vader. "And who is this? Some kid sidekick?"

_Ooh…you're asking for it!_ "General Grievous," Vader sniffed disdainfully, "you're…shorter…than I expected." _Wait a minute…that was kinda lame… Gotta work on my taunts._

"Rah! Jedi scum!" Grievous growled.

"We have a job to do," Obi-Wan chided, "try not to upset him."

"Your lightsabers will make a fine addition to my collection," Grievous taunted cruelly as he briefly parted his cape to reveal a number of lightsabers hooked around his waist before shoving their confiscated lightsabers into a pocket in his cape.

"Not this time," Obi-Wan retorted, "And this time you won't escape." He added boldly.

_Right,_ Vader smirked. "Artoo!" He yelled.

Artoo, clever little droid that he was, knew immediately what was required of him. He instantly extended every tool and appendage he possessed, spun his dome around, and screamed like he was overloading. And just as they intended, every eye was drawn to his performance, giving he and Obi-Wan the opportunity they needed.

Raising his bound hands, he called his saber, as did Obi-Wan. They activated them, cut each other's bonds, and turned on the droids that controlled the bridge. As they did, they were careful to make sure that the Chancellor was kept safe.

"Crush them!" Grievous bellowed. "Make them suffer!"

Vader gleefully hacked through the battle droids before they could get up from their positions. Obi-Wan was more restrained. But they both got the job done. Until Grievous and his personal guard droids joined the fray.

They wielded electrified staffs that had the power to stand up to lightsaber blades. The Magna Guards were tricky, but defeat-able. Grievous was something else altogether…

With all the droids on the bridge cut into pieces, Vader and Obi-Wan cornered the cyborg general near the bridge windows. Grievous crouched low, holding his electro-staff in front of him as he looked back and forth between the two Jedi. His eyes narrowed and he let out a menacing chuckle.

"You lose General Kenobi!" Grievous declared.

Then he through his staff into one of the windows. The transparisteel cracked, then shattered. The vacuum of space immediately sucked the shards of the transparisteel, some of the atmosphere, and General Grievous out. That left Vader, Obi-Wan, Artoo, and the Chancellor hanging on to whatever they could to keep from joining the seemingly suicidal cyborg.

_This is insane!_ Vader raged as he clung to a console. _This is kriffing **insane**! _


	58. 57: Another Happy Landing!

**Note: **Holy cow, over three _hundred _reviews! That's pure awesomeness! Thanks everybody! And enjoy the latest update!

* * *

**Chapter 57**  
_Another Happy Landing!_

A few moments after Grievous broke the window, the automatic safety measures kicked in and durasteel shutters snapped into place to plug the hole. The sucking gale of escaping air ceased and they sank back down to the floor. As they panted for breath, it took a moment for the atmosphere on the bridge to stabilize again.

_Ugh, ears kinda hurt._ Vader groaned as he stiffly rolled to his feet. _Grievous is just as big a jerk as Dooku is…was…bah._

The ship suddenly lurched under their feet, almost sending Vader back down onto the deck. Looking through the remaining windows, Vader noted that Coruscant seemed rather large…and was getting larger. _Oh this is bad._

"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan muttered as he strode towards the pilot consoles.

Vader followed him and settled into the pilot's seat. "All the escape pods have been launched," he frowned as he scanned the read-outs while Artoo jacked in beside him.

"Grievous," Obi-Wan muttered, naming the cause of the problem. "Can you fly a cruiser like this?" He asked Vader a tad worriedly.

"You mean, do I know how to fly what's left of this thing?" Vader snorted as he noticed just how damaged the ship was. "Under the circumstances, I'd say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant," he muttered. Behind him he could feel Palpatine hovering over his shoulder. "Strap yourselves in."

His hands flew over the controls as he wrestling the tumbling hulk into a safe trajectory that would keep them from burning up in the atmosphere. Obi-Wan took a seat next to him and the Chancellor selected a seat just off to the side, thankfully out of the way. "Fire all braking thrusters and extend all flaps and drag fins," he ordered distractedly. That helped some, slowing them down. But then…

The _Invisible Hand_ gave a mighty jerk and there was a shrill but muffled sound of tearing metal. Artoo made a sound that sounded suspiciously like 'uh-oh!' in response.

"We lost something," Vader scowled.

"Not to worry," Obi-Wan replied, studying a display. "We are still flying half a ship." He announced in an almost cheerful tone.

_Oh that's friggin' **fantastic** Obi-Wan!_ Vader grumbled sarcastically. "Here, take these controls and try to keep her level." He ordered, gesturing towards the joystick of a different control console. _That's the problem with big ships, they spread the steering out over two or three different stations…_

Obi-Wan took the stick and did his best with it while he studied some display at his elbow. He muttered some numbers under his breath, making some sort of mental calculation. "We're in the atmosphere." He announced.

"Keep her steady Artoo," Vader mumbled as he fought with the barely responding controls. He caught sight of some of the hull temperature readings and swallowed a curse. "We're coming in too hot!" He hissed.

They were now lurching drunkenly through the Coruscanti sky. Vader had aimed them towards one of the major spaceports, built especially to service the new fleet of Star Destroyers. He'd locked them on to the emergency runway, but whether they'd make it was debatable.

"Fireships on the left and right," Obi-Wan announced as several Coruscanti firefighters appeared in their specially equipped airspeeders. He exchanged a few words with them over the comm and the firefighters began hosing down the ship's hull in an attempt to keep it from melting.

And then they reached the spaceport and its emergency runway…

They crashed into the long wide slab of duracrete still moving at insane speeds. What remained of the _Invisible Hand_ screeched and groaned its way down the runway, demolishing a control tower as it went. And just when it seemed that they'd keep going off the end of the runway and crash into some buildings…they stopped.

"Another happy landing!" Obi-Wan cheerfully declared.

_You're welcome._ Vader sighed, slumping back in the pilot's seat. _Do I get a vacation for this?_

_

* * *

_

Obi-Wan sighed in relief as they settled into an airbus that would take them back to the Senate rotunda. Grievous had escaped, but Count Dooku would no longer be a problem. And they had successfully rescued the Supreme Chancellor without sustaining any serious injury. All in all, Obi-Wan decided to cautiously consider this insane mission a victory.

He kept a polite smile on his face while Palpatine continually gushed praise on them for saving his life. Vader, he could sense, was having a slightly harder time keeping his expression politely neutral while Palpatine babbled. Thankfully the Chancellor's comm chimed and he moved to the opposite end of the otherwise empty transport to take it.

Now 'alone' Obi-Wan slumped into his seat and rubbed at his throbbing head. Vader abandoned his previous set across the aisle to sit next to Obi-Wan on the opposite side from the Chancellor. He slumped down and apparently was trying to disappear. Obi-Wan cast Vader an inquiring look.

"I don't like him." Vader muttered in a voice so low that Obi-Wan had to lean in a bit to hear him.

"Well I really don't like him either," Obi-Wan muttered back. "He _is_ a politician."

"He's worse. He's Hutt slime," Vader grumbled, "and I don't ever want to see him again."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

Vader took a quick glance over at the Chancellor to make sure he was still occupied before answering. "For one, he ordered me to kill Dooku. And for another, he wanted me to leave you to die on the observation deck and just save his own skin."

Obi-Wan didn't immediately reply to that. He couldn't. Those were very serious accusations. The first one he might be able to believe, but the second was hard to swallow, and put together it all seemed impossible.

"You don't believe me." Vader sighed softly.

"Those are some…very heavy accusations." Obi-Wan stated neutrally.

"Yeah," Vader shrugged slightly, "so why would I make it up?"

_Good point,_ Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully, stroking his beard.

Before he could think much on that, the Chancellor returned to sit across from them and it was back to the polite smiles and nods. If what Vader said was true, and Obi-Wan thought that at least some of it was, then he could completely understand why he was having so much trouble being all smiley and nice to the Chancellor. But, whether it was true or not, there wasn't anything he could do about it right now.

Thankfully the ride was soon over. The airbus lumbered over to a side entrance of the grand Senate rotunda and landed. The doors hissed open and let the Chancellor off.

There was a small crowd of other Senators standing there, waiting for their beloved leader to be returned to them. Most of those present were strong supporters of Palpatine, but there were a few exceptions. Obi-Wan spied Bail Organa there who, while close to the Chancellor, didn't seem to be as enthusiastic about Palpatine's policies as he had been when the Chancellor was first elected.

Palpatine eagerly disembarked and hurried over to meet with the anxiously waiting Senators. Obi-Wan held back for a moment, as did Vader. There would be just enough time to chat a bit before they had to briefly part ways.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here, meet with the politicians?" Obi-Wan teased.

"Oh no," Vader snorted, "I've had more than enough for one day. I'll have some aspirin waiting for you when you make it back." He smirked.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan sighed exasperatedly, rubbing briefly at his head. _I hate it when I get knocked unconscious._

"Bye Master, see you at the Temple!" Vader cheerfully waved, his earlier worries temporarily forgotten.

"Good bye," Obi-Wan waved as the airbus left, taking Vader back to the Temple where he would wait.

Letting out another sigh, Obi-Wan turned and started after the Chancellor. He almost wished that Vader was the type to adore attention and not try to keep a low profile. That way he could send Vader off to schmooze with the politicians and reporters sometimes instead of doing all that work himself. But he didn't have much choice in the matter. Vader didn't want to be known, so he wouldn't be known.

He caught up to the Chancellor just as he had run into Master Windu, who was also there waiting. Obi-Wan bowed briefly to his fellow Master and then stood beside him. After exchanging the silent greeting with Obi-Wan, Mace turned his full attention to the Chancellor.

"Chancellor Palpatine, are you alright?" Mace asked with concern.

"Yes, thanks to your two Jedi Knights," Palpatine replied, not bothering to make any distinction in rank. "They killed Count Dooku, but" – he sighed deeply – "General Grievous has escaped, once again."

"General Grievous will run and hide as he always does," Mace assured him. "He's a coward."

"But with Count Dooku dead, he is the leader of the droid army." The Chancellor pointed out. "And I assure the Senate will vote to continue the war as long as Grievous is alive." He added with quiet confidence.

"Then the Jedi Council will make finding Grievous our highest priority." Master Windu declared and Obi-Wan silently nodded his agreement.

The Chancellor accepted this reply and moved on to the interior of the rotunda. Mace left to return to the Temple himself. But Obi-Wan, out of necessity, remained behind.

Most Senators graced him with a polite nod, but their main concern was clearly their recently restored leader. Some were truly worried about his well-being, but Obi-Wan suspected a good number of them only played at concern in an attempt to forge closer ties with the powerful and influential leader. Obi-Wan just shrugged and went with the flow of things.

"Master Kenobi?" Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan asked quietly, coming over to walk alongside Obi-Wan.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan replied, slowing his pace a bit.

"I have to thank you for your actions today," Bail murmured appreciatively. "The Republic is once again in your debt."

"Think nothing of it," Obi-Wan snorted, "it's my job after all."

"Of course," Bail nodded. "But thank you anyway."

"Humph, you can thank me by helping the Senate bring the war to a speedy end." Obi-Wan sighed.

"I will do my best," Bail promised, "but with General Grievous still out there I fear the Senate will resist any attempt to end the fighting until he is taken care of."

"So you agree with Chancellor Palpatine?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes," Bail agreed somewhat reluctantly. "Fear is a great motivator for many Senators and they are leery of ending the war until all serious threats are cancelled out. Count Dooku's death is a start, but General Grievous is nearly as deadly."

"True," Obi-Wan conceded. "I see your point."

"I shouldn't keep you," Bail apologized, "you must have to get back to the Council."

"Not for another hour," Obi-Wan sighed. _Unfortunately._

"Oh?" Bail blinked in surprise.

"I have to put in an appearance for the Order before I can return home." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Couldn't you have had your young friend do this?" Bail wondered.

Obi-Wan shook his head and smothered a chuckle. Earlier in the war, Bail Organa and some other Senators had traveled to a conference to meet with undecided worlds and try to sway them to the Republic's cause. But the Separatists had cut them off and stranded them before they could return to Coruscant. Rescuing them was when Obi-Wan had first had any prolonged contact with Bail Organa. And during this mission Bail had stumbled over Vader who had been doing his level best to avoid being seen by any non-Jedi. Bail, it seemed, still recalled the odd young Padawan.

"I would very much like to dump this little duty on him," Obi-Wan chuckled, "but he is as allergic as ever to high concentrations of Senators."

"That's a pity," Bail smiled, "I would've very much liked to have seen him again."

"I'll let him know that you wanted to see him," Obi-Wan promised.

"Thank you," Bail nodded, "I appreciate that. So how did the sieges go?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath before replying. "Well…"

* * *

Vader sighed in relief as he hopped out of the airbus just in front of the Jedi Temple. He'd gotten through the nightmare above Coruscant, beaten Dooku, and managed to get out of spending anymore time with Palpatine and the rest of the Senate. Now things would get better. 

"Vader!" Someone called just as he made it into the Temple foyer.

The smile died before it even had a chance to form on his face. _Oh no… No, no, no, no, please don't let it be – oh crap! …It is._

Darra scampered into view, beaming. "When did you make it back?"

"Just now," Vader swallowed tensely as he brushed past her.

"Really?" Darra murmured as she fell in step beside him. "I just got in yesterday."

_Fantastic…_ "That's nice," Vader muttered as he made a beeline for his apartment.

"So where did you make it back from?" She asked curiously.

"Dantooine," Vader replied. "Ferus was there too."

"Dantooine…I don't think I've ever been there. What's it like?" Darra inquired.

"It's very purple." Vader shrugged. "And very empty."

"What are the natives like?" Darra wondered.

"I don't know, I didn't meet any." Vader shrugged again. "From what I read, Dantooine is home to a scattering of nomadic tribes that depend on herding."

"Interesting," Darra nodded, though she really didn't sound all that interested.

Vader held back a sigh as he forged ahead towards his apartment and (hopefully) sanctuary. There was a chance, though, that he wouldn't be able to escape from her unwanted attentions. She could very well corner him in his apartment and force him to confront her. He really didn't want to have to do that. He'd rather let her little crush burn out on its own.

"So, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" Darra asked, drawing a bit closer to him.

_Force save me…_ "I was thinking of a quick nap before I have to go before the Council and give my report." Vader answered.

"Oh," Darra muttered, disappointed. "Hey, did you hear about what just happened with the Chancellor?"

"What?" Vader frowned. _Did that jerk get recaptured already?_

"He was captured by General Grievous, but Master Kenobi was recalled and rescued him." Darra informed him cheerfully.

"Right," Vader blinked after a moment. _Somebody left their brain turned off today…_ "I knew that."

"No you didn't," Darra laughed. When he stayed silent, her laughter died. "You did?"

"I follow Master Kenobi around pretty much everywhere he goes, remember?" Vader smirked. _Ah ha!_ He silently cheered as his apartment door came into view around the corner.

"So you were…?" She pointed vaguely upwards. "I thought you said you were just on Dantooine!"

"I was, but I had a small stopover just beyond the atmosphere, that's all." Vader shrugged, picking up the pace a bit to reach his door faster.

"You helped rescue the Supreme Chancellor?" Darra sputtered disbelievingly.

"Yep," Vader replied, opening the door and stepping inside. "And by the way," he turned around to face her as she stood just outside the doorway, "Ferus says hi!" And then he shut the door in her face.

He waited near the door anxiously to see what she'd do. _Please go away…please, please, please!_ For a moment it almost felt like she was going to reach over and press the door chime, but then he sensed her turn and walk away.

_Thank the Force!_ He sighed and smiled in relief as he left the door behind in favor of the couch. _And now for some well-deserved rest and relaxation!_

* * *

The caf in her cup had long gone cold, but Sabé failed to notice it. In spite of all her, Moteé's, and Captain Typho's pleadings, Padmé had decided to go to the Senate rotunda after the attacking ships had lifted back off into space. Typho had gone with her, but still Sabé was beside herself with worry. 

_What is she thinking!_ Sabé fumed. _She's not just putting her life in danger, she's risking her baby too!_

Yet somehow Sabé couldn't find it in herself to be surprised by this. While she had altered her behavior to keep her condition secret from the public, when she was in private, she didn't act like anything had changed. She still buried herself in her work without any concern for her own well-being.

Sabé sighed wearily and shook her head. _Padmé should be thinking up baby names, collecting baby clothes and supplies, preparing a room, just enjoying the fact that she's going to be a mother soon. But here she is, reading reports, composing speeches, worrying about votes, running around to meetings, just being busy, busy, busy!_

_Oh Padmé,_ Sabé swallowed hard, _do you even realize what you're missing out on? Do you even care? Or has your dedication to your post completely consumed you?_

Idly swishing her cup of cold caf, Sabé stared out the glass walls of Padmé's common room, her eyes fixed on the trails of smoke that still rose high into the air. Throughout the battle that had raged just beyond the atmosphere, ruined ships, mainly small fighters, had spiraled out of control and crashed into the city below. Firefighters were probably running all over trying to put the fires out, but it would be hours until they would be finished.

_And so the war finally makes its way here to Coruscant,_ Sabé mused. _After nearly three years of fighting in far off places, it's suddenly right here on the Senate's doorstep. I wonder if this will make things real for a lot of Senators whose worlds remain untouched…_

She sincerely hoped that this close call did motivate the many Senators who had remained complacent or apathetic. She hoped this would inspire them to end the war swiftly. She was tired of hearing about the endless suffering and death on the news channels every night.

Squeezing her eyes shut she desperately tried to forget the latest rumor being spread and sensationalized by the newscasters. _It's not true,_ she told herself. _They just jump to shocking conclusions to boost viewership and make money. Obi-Wan is fine._

The latest 'big story' was that Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, the famed Negotiator had been killed somewhere out in the far reaches of the Outer Rim. No one had reported seeing him and the news agencies had lost track of him, so of course he _must _be dead! Sabé wasn't inclined to take that line of reasoning as anything credible.

He was a Jedi Master after all, not someone who could be easily killed. He'd probably just found his way to a place where it was difficult to keep in communications with the rest of the galaxy. He would be back. And he would bring Vader back with him.

_It's strange how Obi-Wan is always all over the news, yet Vader is almost never mentioned, and when he is it's never by name._ Sabé finally got up to poor her wasted caf down the drain. _I wonder why. It's not like Vader is some ugly mean creature, he's actually rather photogenic. I'd think the reporters and photographers would be all over him._

The door hissed open and Sabé perked up immediately. She hurried towards the lift and, sure enough, Padmé and Captain Typho had returned. Sabé smiled weakly in relief.

"Welcome back," Sabé sighed, letting her distant Handmaiden act slip a bit. "How did it go?"

"Oh I don't know," Padmé groaned, hobbling her way over to the couch.

"Well what happened?" Sabé inquired.

"General Grievous captured the Chancellor, but Master Kenobi rescued him and returned him to the Senate." Padmé sighed as she sank down onto the couch and got off her feet.

Sabé felt another wave of relief hit her as she learned that Obi-Wan was indeed alright. She helped Padmé prop up her feet and removed her shoes so that her friend and employer's ankles could recover. Settling down beside her, she prepared to ask some harder questions.

"So Master Kenobi was there?" Sabé asked.

"Yes," Padmé nodded.

"Did you talk to him?" Sabé inquired.

"No," Padmé replied.

"Why not?" Sabé frowned.

"You know why not." Padmé shrugged.

"Oh?" Sabé's frown deepened. "Tell me anyway."

"He's a Jedi first of all," Padmé explained. "No matter how concealing my dress, there's still a chance he could sense something. And second of all he's a member of the Jedi Council _and _he knows that Vader and I had…relations. Vader may not have gotten in trouble for a minor, one-time infraction such as that, but this will definitely get him into trouble."

"You don't know that for sure," Sabé pointed out. "And at the very least, Master Kenobi can pass along a message to Vader that you wish to see him."

"But I don't wish to see him," Padmé retorted.

Sabé felt her heart sink. "And why not? Are you suddenly not friends with him anymore?"

"It's not that at all," Padmé frowned, awkwardly reaching over to rub at one of her swollen ankles. "He has enough on his mind with the war and whatever lingering guilt and regret he might feel from just sleeping with me. I don't want to worry him unnecessarily with this."

"_Padmé_!" Sabé sputtered in frustration, making it sound more like a whine than anything else. "He could help you! Or at the very least offer some emotional support! You have to remember that he's half responsible for this baby."

"He's a Jedi. Attachments are forbidden. This" – she placed a hand on her rounded stomach – "is an attachment if I ever saw one. I'm not about to get him into trouble or put him under more stress than is necessary."

"But Padmé…" Sabé sighed pleadingly. "What if he comes over here? You gave him an open invitation to come over whenever he wants and he has the codes for the door."

Padmé was silent for a few minutes. "If he comes over, I'll deal with it then." She decided. "If he finds out, he finds out. But I won't tell him and I won't seek him out."

Sabé was so frustrated she wanted to scream. "Fine, be that way. But, for the record, I think you should be open and honest with Vader right now. You don't want to talk with your family about the baby? Fine, I can understand that, they're all the way on Naboo. But Vader is right here, right now."

"He could still be in the Outer Rim," Padmé countered. "I only saw Master Kenobi at the Senate rotunda."

"You know perfectly well that wherever Master Kenobi goes, Vader is sure to follow if he isn't already right there with him." Sabé scowled.

Padmé only shook her head and refused to reply.

Feeling fed up, Sabé got up off the couch and stalked into the kitchen. She was frustrated and angry and there was no firing range that she could run off to for target practice. So she fell back on a slightly older method she used for stress relief. She started to bake some cookies, venting her pent-up frustrations in mixing up the cookie dough.

* * *

Padmé sighed in exhaustion as Sabé stormed off to the kitchen and slumped over to lay down on her couch. Captain Typho had already returned to his post in the building's security center and Moteé was most likely out running some errand or other, leaving her pretty much alone in the apartment. Shifting carefully into a comfortable position that wouldn't ruin her hairstyle, she closed her eyes and hoped to catch a quick nap. 

A solid thump in the side of her abdomen drew her hand to the spot in seconds. She rubbed at the area and felt a few more kicks (or maybe they were punches) before the baby calmed down. _Hush little boy, hush…_

She didn't know the baby's gender, she'd commanded the medical droid she saw for check-ups not to tell her. But she always had a strong feeling it would be a boy. She believed it was motherly intuition (though perhaps it could just be wishful thinking).

Her family was a family of girls. Her mother had had her and her sister. Her sister had had her nieces Ryoo and Pooja. There was never a son, a brother, a nephew. The only men in the house were those who married into the family. If she had a son it would be a nice change.

_If_ she could keep him.

The possibility that her baby could turn out to be Jedi material had been growing in her mind lately. If he had the potential, she would send him to the Temple to be trained as a Jedi. Some people would think her cold and uncaring to send her baby away, but who was she to deny her son his full potential? If he had the ability to be a Jedi, then he should be. Gods knew the Jedi Order would need many new Initiates to rebuild itself after the war.

Giving him up would hurt though. It would hurt a lot. She held no illusions about that. And that was part of the reason why she worked so obsessively. She didn't want to get too attached to her son and the idea of motherhood. It would only intensify the pain of separation…if it came to that.

Forcibly turning her thoughts away from her baby and his future, she instead focused on the present. After the terror of the surprise attack and the relief at Palpatine's safe return, the Senate had gone into recess to allow the rattled Senators to recover their wits. But before she had returned to the apartment, Bail Organa had approached her with an invitation.

Something about this invitation was special. Bail had led her aside, but still stayed close enough to other chatting Senators to mask what he was going to say. And something about the way that he invited her to his meeting gave her the impression that it was important, special. He would give her no details other than the time (tomorrow) and place (his office) of the meeting. But something about his tone of voice and the look in his eyes caught her attention.

She accepted the invitation, of course. Bail was her friend and she respected him greatly. Not only was he the Viceroy of Alderaan (a largely ceremonial position at this time) but he was the elected Senator of Alderaan. He was a pacifist by nature just like she was and he held the Jedi Order in high respect. Whatever Bail's meeting was about, it would likely be something she agreed with. Bail was a good man and he would only get involved with good causes.

_Sabé probably won't be happy that I have another meeting tomorrow,_ Padmé sighed. _Sabé doesn't like anything I do anymore._ She sighed and lightly massaged her stomach. _But just one more month. One more month and then I can go home._

* * *

Vader settled himself down on one of the low circular cushioned chairs that populated Master Yoda's meditation chamber. Obi-Wan also took a seat, choosing the little stool next to Vader. Master Yoda and Master Windu were already there, seated and waiting. 

"Anything to add, have you?" Master Yoda asked without preamble. His question referred to the debriefing by the entire Council less then a half hour earlier that had focused on what had happened on board the _Invisible Hand_.

Obi-Wan had already said everything that he had to say. But he'd been unconscious part of the time. Vader hadn't, and that was conveniently when all the really bad stuff happened.

"When I had Count Dooku at my mercy, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine pressured me to kill him." Vader began bluntly.

Both of the Masters were shocked. Vader couldn't say that he blamed them. It was a shocking thing to hear about a man that they had worked with for years. Master Windu found his voice again first.

"Did you do as he requested?" Mace asked.

"Not intentionally," Vader frowned. "But Dooku did lunge at the Chancellor as though he was going to attack and that's when and why I killed him." He shook his head at the whole mess. "Then after that, he was very calm and relaxed. I guess he tried to soothe my apparent guilty conscience by saying that Dooku was a great threat and that it was good that I killed him, that it was a move that defended the rest of the Order."

"Hmm," Yoda grunted, disturbed by what he was hearing. "More is there?"

"Unfortunately," Vader sighed. "After all that with Dooku, he tried to rush me in leaving the observation deck. When I stopped to collect Master Kenobi, he pressured me to leave him behind so that we could escape faster. I ignored that order of course." He snorted in disgust.

Yoda and Mace eyed each other before responding.

"Strong accusations these are," Yoda murmured. "Perhaps exaggerating the events you might be?"

"Why would I do something stupid like that?" Vader scowled. "I wouldn't make this stuff up, I have no motive to."

"What is your personal opinion of the Supreme Chancellor?" Mace inquired.

"I don't like him at all." Vader stated firmly. "I didn't like him when I first met him at the Senate charity ball six months ago and I like him even less now. I would be perfectly happy to never see him ever again."

The two Masters studied him for a long minute or two, testing his sincerity and his emotions. Vader stared right back at them, confident that they would find nothing wrong with his expanded account because he knew he was right. Apparently satisfied with what they found, they nodded to him.

"Dismissed you are," Master Yoda told them.

"May the Force be with you," Master Windu added.

Vader and Obi-Wan echoed the ancient greeting and departed. They walked back to their apartment without saying a word. But once their door had closed behind them, the silence ended.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, nothing in particular," Vader shrugged. "Why?"

"I'll be running a briefing on the Outer Rim sieges just before noon," Obi-Wan replied. "Feel up to helping me with it?"

"Sure," Vader nodded. "So long as you do all the talking and I get to play with the clicker that advances the graphics." He smirked.

"Fine," Obi-Wan chuckled. "You can run the holo-projector if you want to."

"Hooray!" Vader grinned sarcastically, heading for his room. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," Obi-Wan called after him.

"'Night!" Vader called back before the door shut behind him.

It was a bit early, the sun was still up and all, but after all the insanity just beyond the atmosphere, he was ready to turn in. He quickly shrugged off his cloak, removed his belts and boots and glove, and shed his tunics. After swapping his regular pants for sleep pants he settled onto his little bed and started to relax.

_I wonder how Padmé's doing._ Vader sighed and cheated, using the Force to switch off the lights without getting up. _I should go visit her,_ he decided. _Maybe tomorrow, after Obi-Wan's briefing thing… _


	59. 58: Conspiracies and Intrigues

**Chapter 58  
**_Conspiracies and Intrigues_

_A column of smoke billowed up into the night sky…_

_Flashes of light…_

_Screams of agony…_

_Screams of fear…_

_Screams of children…_

_Death and destruction…_

_He was running, running so hard, but the Darkness just kept spreading, and he couldn't–_

* * *

Vader bolted upright and promptly fell out of bed. The shock of hitting the hard cold floor brought him to complete wakefulness, but he still was left disoriented and frightened. It took several minutes of sitting there panting and shaking before he pulled himself together enough to get up. 

_I hate nightmares!_ He thought angrily as he settled on the edge of his bed. _I'd rather have naughty dreams about Padmé than nightmares about…whatever that was._

As his heart rate settled back down to normal, he puzzled over what he'd seen. The whole thing had been hazy, the sounds muted, like he'd been watching everything with cotton in his ears and a dark veil over his head. And even without the haze and muted sound, everything had seemed vague.

The emotions he'd felt though hadn't been vague. There had been terror, pain, horror, death, pretty much everything negative. And now he couldn't help but feel a rising sense of doom building up around him.

Shuddering, he glanced over at his alarm chrono and cursed softly. _Ugh, it's two in the morning! Why can't I have nightmares at more convenient times, like six or seven in the morning?_

Groaning, he flopped back down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow. It was far too early to be getting up so all he could really do was try to get back to sleep. _Dreams, dreams go away, let me sleep until it's day…_

* * *

Obi-Wan knocked on Vader's door. Normally the young man was able to get up on his own, but sometimes he needed a bit of help. Today seemed to be one of these times. 

"What?" Vader grumbled when the door finally swung open after the fourth set of knocks. He looked rather tired and cranky.

"It's morning." Obi-Wan replied.

Vader looked back inside his room at his alarm chrono. "So it is," he sighed and wandered towards the refresher.

"Don't take too long in there," Obi-Wan warned cheerfully.

"Yeah, yeah!" Vader snapped back before closing the refresher door behind himself.

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Obi-Wan sighed and set about brewing up the morning tea.

When Vader reappeared, clean and ready to face the day, he accepted his cup of tea in silence. He sipped at it wordlessly, his eyes fixed on some imaginary point in space as he was apparently lost in thought. Something was troubling him and Obi-Wan decided to find out what that was.

"What are you thinking about?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Hm?" Vader blinked. "Oh, just some weird dream I had last night."

"A dream?" Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

"A nightmare really." Vader sighed. "It was really vague."

"What is it about?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"I can't say really," Vader shrugged helplessly, "but it wasn't anything good."

"Well why worry about it? It's just a dream…or nightmare." Obi-Wan wondered.

"I dunno…" Vader muttered hesitantly. "Some of my dreams have the habit of coming true. And it's always the bad ones that do." He pouted. "That's not really fair. Why don't my good dreams ever come true?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "If this is really bothering you so much, why don't you go speak with Master Yoda? He's the closest person I know of that could be called an expert on visions."

"I just might," Vader mumbled thoughtfully. "Yeah…" And then he got up from the table and wandered off, presumably in search of Master Yoda.

_Of course he runs off before the morning meditation,_ Obi-Wan sighed as he cleaned up the teapot and cups. _Young people,_ he snorted as he made his way over to the little rug he preferred to kneel on while he meditated. But just before he could begin, his comm-link beeped for attention.

He sighed and answered it. "Yes?"

_"Obi-Wan, is Vader there?"_ Master Windu asked.

"No he's not," Obi-Wan replied, "I believe he's gone to speak with Master Yoda."

_"Really?"_ Mace murmured in surprise. _"Well the next time you see him I have a message for you to pass on."_

"Oh?" Obi-Wan blinked. "What is it?"

_"Supreme Chancellor Palpatine requests a meeting with him and he should report to the Chancellor's office at his earliest convenience."_ Mace answered.

"Palpatine wants to see Vader?" Obi-Wan frowned, totally thrown. "Did he say why?"

_"No, he refused to say."_ Mace replied, his tone worried. _"Something is going on here. I suspect it may have to do with the new emergency powers that the Senate is expected to grant him today."_

"Possibly," Obi-Wan sighed. "I'll tell him after the report on the Outer Rim sieges."

_"Good," _Mace responded. _"I'll see you in this afternoon's session then. May the Force be with you."_

"Yes, may the Force be with you also." Obi-Wan replied and cut the connection.

Hooking his comm-link back onto his belt, he sighed and returned to the task of meditating. It was a little more difficult that usual as his brief conversation with Mace continued to trouble him. _What could the Chancellor possibly want with Vader? _

* * *

Master Yoda was settled comfortably into one of his small padded stools in his meditation chamber, going through his morning meditations when he had a most unexpected visitor. There was a knock on his door that brought him back to the present. And then on the other side of the door was Vader, looking a little tired, and rather anxious. 

"Welcome," Yoda blinked. "A surprise this is."

"Yeah, good morning Master Yoda." Vader nodded, taking a seat across from the aged Master.

Yoda wasn't sure what was more surprising about this spontaneous visit. The fact that it was Vader who was visiting him. Or the fact that he was here alone.

"What can I do for you?" Yoda inquired curiously.

"Well…um…I had this really weird dream last night that's been bugging me. And Master Obi-Wan recommended you so…" Vader shrugged. "Here I am."

"Ah," Yoda nodded thoughtfully. "So, this dream you have…?" He prompted.

"It's…kinda vague," Vader began uncomfortably. "But I remember seeing smoke and…there is fear, suffering, death…" He shook his head slightly as if to shake off the lingering feelings of the dream.

"Yourself you speak of, or someone you know?" Yoda inquired.

"I'm…not sure. Maybe…maybe it was a lot of people. I don't really know." Vader sighed.

"Hmm," Yoda grunted, "a simple dream this could be."

"Yeah, but…" Vader trailed off for a moment, struggling with some indecision. "There's something about this one…I don't know how to describe it, but… I've had dreams that have come true before. On Jabiim I dreamed of explosions and being alone just before Obi-Wan was captured. And when I disappeared before Ansion…that was because of some dreams I'd been suffering from that turned out to be true. This dream feels the same as those but…different somehow." He sighed deeply in frustration. "I really don't know how to describe it."

Yoda settled back in his seat and pondered this for several minutes. Vader seemed to be saying that he sometimes had prophetic dreams that came true shortly after he had them. Yet in all his meditations he hadn't seen anything that fit with Vader's descrition of his most recent dream…

"Careful you must be when sensing the future," Yoda cautioned, "always in motion it is. Meditate on this I will." He promised.

Vader didn't appear to be completely reassured. "Thank you Master Yoda." He nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

"May the Force be with you," Yoda told him.

"And may the Force be with you," Vader bowed and left.

Yoda let out a weary sigh when he was alone once more. Vader's dream could be just that, a dream. Or it could be something more serious. The tiny Master decided to set all of his energies towards determining which it was.

_Perhaps help from an old friend I will receive… _

* * *

_Ngh, tired…_ Vader fought the urge to yawn as he sat by the holo-display while Obi-Wan gave a presentation to some other Jedi Generals who were present on Coruscant. He didn't see why it had to take so long though. 

_I don't see why he has to go over all these details. All we need to know is that things are going our way. Saleucami has been taken care of and Master Vos has taken his forces on to Boz Pity. Really, how hard is that?_

Thankfully though things seemed to be wrapping up. Obi-Wan finished giving his little presentation and all those assembled in the audience rose to depart. Vader finally let out the yawn that had been bugging him the whole time and began shutting down the holo-displays.

"Well that went well," Obi-Wan sighed when they were alone.

"Yeah," Vader agreed. Then he noticed that Obi-Wan appeared troubled. "Is something wrong?"

"The Senate is expected to vote more executive powers to the Chancellor today." Obi-Wan replied.

"So?" Vader snorted. "What else is new?" It seemed that every time they made it back to Coruscant, the Chancellor had gained (or would shortly gain) more power.

"He has also requested your presence." Obi-Wan added.

"Oh?" Vader blinked. _Wait a minute…_ "_What?_ What for?"

"He would not say," Obi-Wan shrugged, equally disturbed by this seemingly random request.

"This doesn't make any sense," Vader frowned. "I don't even know where his office is and he wants to see _me_?"

"That's what Master Windu told me this morning." Obi-Wan nodded. "All you have to do is go to the Senate building and ask one of the Senate Guard for directions."

"Right… Wait…you're not coming with me?" Vader swallowed anxiously.

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head unhappily. "He only requested you. You are no longer my Padawan, you're an independent Jedi Knight, so I have no real reason to go with you." He folded his arms within his sleeves. "Be careful."

"I will," Vader muttered worriedly. He turned and started to leave, but paused at the doorway. "Do I have to go?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan chuckled a little, "you have to go."

"Fine," Vader pouted, "I'm going."

"May the Force be with you!" Obi-Wan called at his retreating back.

Vader only waved over his shoulder. He headed for an exit that would take him near an airbus route, all the while feeling a vague sensation of impending doom building over his head. _I have got such a bad feeling about this that it's not even funny…_

* * *

Padmé couldn't honestly say what she thought was going to happen when she showed up for Bail's meeting in his office. So she just approached it with an open and curious mind. In the end, it still managed to throw her for a loop. 

First there were introductions. She knew Bail already of course. But the others that were present were either very distant acquaintances or complete strangers.

Mon Mothma was someone she exchanged words with every now and then when they ran into each other in the Senate rotunda. The fiery-haired Human woman was the Senator of Chandrila. Padmé's main impression of the woman was that she was dedicated to her work, very serious, almost cold at times, but a good person.

Terr Taneel was another Human Senator, one who Padmé had seen a few times in the Senate, but had never actually met or spoken with before. She represented the world of Neelanon, a planet from the ancient Senex Sector. She was very quiet, a calm and cool presence that almost rivaled Mon Mothma.

Giddean Danu was the Senator for the Kuat System. His home was the source of much of the Republic's fleet, its shipyards churned out many Star Destroyers and other pieces of military equipment at great economic gain. However the dark-skinned Human seemed to be a very reasonable, practical man, though a tad bit stiff.

Fang Zar was easily the oldest one present. The aging Human Senator was the representative of Sern Prime, the political center of the Sern Sector. Despite his baggy eyes, white frizzy beard, and lazy-sounding voice, his mind seemed to still be quite sharp.

After everyone knew each others' names, Bail seated them all in the office chairs he had arranged in a circle. Padmé was especially cautious in taking her seat, careful to keep her dress from laying wrong and revealing her condition. As they all settled in, Bail's protocol droid, a model based off the basic form of a female humanoid, began offering them drinks.

Bail began the meeting with a rather shocking comment. "Now that he has the control of the Jedi Council, the Chancellor has appointed Governors to oversee all star systems in the Republic."

Padmé suspected the first half of his comment had to do with the newest powers that were up for the vote. Officially the new powers were to allow the Chancellor better communications with the Jedi Order, but Bail clearly thought they were something different altogether. Though the powers weren't yet in Palpatine's hands, they might as well be. She couldn't remember the last time the Senate had failed to increase his power. The second half of Bail's statement though…

"When did this happen?" Fang Zar asked in surprise.

"That decree was posted this morning." Bail informed him.

"Do you think he'll dismantle the Senate?" Padmé wondered worriedly.

"Why bother?" Mon Mothma sighed. "As a practical matter, the Senate no longer exists."

"The Constitution is in shreds," Giddean Danu added, "amendment after amendment."

"We cannot let a thousand years of democracy disappear without a fight." Bail quietly declared.

"What are you suggesting?" Terr Taneel asked cautiously.

"Suggesting? What – w-why I don't mean to sound like a Separatist!" Bail sputtered, a little surprised.

"We are not Separatists trying to leave the Republic, we are loyalists seeking to preserve democracy _within_ the Republic." Mon insisted calmly.

"I cannot believe it has come to this." Padmé sighed tensely. "Chancellor Palpatine is one of my oldest advisors. He served my ambassador when I was Queen."

While she had lost some faith in the Supreme Chancellor and was certainly unhappy with how things were going, she really didn't want to think and speak so badly of him. The way these Senators were speaking of him painted him in a far worse light than she herself thought. But despite her protests, she found a good part of herself agreeing with what they said.

"Senator, I fear you have underestimated the amount of corruption that has taken hold in the Senate." Giddean frowned slightly.

"The Chancellor has played the Senators well. They know where the power lies and they will do whatever it takes to share in it." Mon declared.

"And we cannot continue debating this any longer." Bail got up from his chair and began to speak excitedly. "We have decided to do what we can to stop it. Senator Mon Mothma and I have been putting together an organization–"

"Say no more Senator," Padmé interrupted, "I understand. At this point, some things are better left unsaid."

Her mind raced at a feverish pace, outrunning Bail's little speech and drawing a good guess as to what else he would've said had she not stopped him. He was speaking of conspiracy, of forming a group that would oppose Palpatine, perhaps militarily. That was a very dangerous thing to voice, even in the safety of his own office.

"Agreed." Bail nodded, calming down. "So we will not discuss this with anyone without everyone in this group agreeing."

"That means those closest to you, even family." Mon added. "No one can be told."

_Telling my family won't be a problem,_ Padmé mused. _They're all the way over on Naboo… Moteé and Ellé won't be problems either. But Sabé and Typho…_

She wasn't particularly close to her two newest Handmaidens and wasn't bothered at having to keep this secret from them. However Captain Typho and Sabé were a different story. She thought of them as friends and, even though she and Sabé weren't on the best of terms at the moment, she didn't want to hide this from them.

But this silence wouldn't last forever. When the time of plotting ended and the time for action came, she was sure she could tell them. They'd learn about all of this, just later.

"Agreed." Padmé decided firmly.

* * *

Vader chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously as he followed the directions he'd been given to the Supreme Chancellor's office. He really had no idea what to expect. And that worried him. 

He reached the proper door all too soon and paused before pressing the door buzzer to collect himself. After taking a few calming breaths and locking his strongest mental shields in place, he pressed the buzzer and settled back to wait. Less than a heartbeat after letting go the button, the door opened to reveal the smiling Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

"Ah, there you are! I've been expecting you." Palpatine smiled. "Come in, come in!"

Vader nervously stepped inside the spacious office. It was sparsely decorated, painted in black and crimson with few sculptures, paintings, and furniture. There were also several large windows, though in spite of the light they let in, some corners of the room remained dim and shadowy.

"You requested to see me, Chancellor?" Vader inquired politely, coming to the point as quickly as possible to get the whole thing over with speedily.

"Yes," Palpatine nodded, his cheerful smile fading into a worried, grim expression. "I need your help."

"With what?" Vader asked, doing his best not to frown.

"I need you to be the eyes, ears, and voice of the Republic." Palpatine informed him. "I am appointing you to be my personal representative on the Jedi Council."

Vader swore his jaw hit the floor with that pronouncement. "Why?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"Why?" Palpatine repeated. "Well why not? You are obviously very skilled and competent; you saved my life after all! And you seem to be a very bright young man."

_Ah, this is insane! …Wait a minute._ "I can't be on the Council. I'm only a Knight," Vader pointed out. "And besides, the Council selects its own members. They'll never accept this."

"I think they will." Palpatine declared confidently. "They need you. More than they know." He added in an almost ominous voice.

The air seemed to grow cold and heavy around him and Vader swallowed hard, tightening his shields further and struggling to order his thoughts. "I'm honored by your choice Chancellor, but I must respectfully decline. I am young and inexperienced. There are many others of the proper rank who can serve you and your needs far better than I." He said very carefully.

"The new amendment to the Constitution that grants me this new privilege makes no specific requirements of the Jedi I choose, and after much thought I have chosen you." Palpatine frowned. "I'm depending on you now to help me communicate more effectively with the Jedi Council and make sure the Republic's opinion is heard."

_This is his new executive power? Crap!_ "You're sure of your choice? There's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Vader asked hesitantly.

"No, I am sure." Palpatine's frown deepened and he almost sounded insulted. "You are the Jedi I want for this position."

"Then I accept the position." Vader bowed humbly, hoping his agreement would soothe the Chancellor's mood. _I'm doomed…_

"Good," Palpatine nodded sternly. "Now take my decision to the Council. I shall call you when I need you."

Vader bowed again and forced himself not to bolt from the office, but to walk slowly and calmly. Once the door shut behind him, his shoulders sagged and he sighed deeply in growing despair. His steps began to drag as he trudged back towards the Temple.

_I…am doomed…_

* * *

Obi-Wan slipped into Master Yoda's meditation chamber just behind Mace Windu. Yoda and Mace had invited him to meet with them before the day's Council session and he had easily agreed. It was a great honor to be part of such a discussion with the two wise Masters and he was admittedly curious to see what it was all about. 

Master Yoda was already inside, sitting on the circular stool in the middle of the room. Mace chose a seat in one corner, and Obi-Wan settled down in another corner. Yoda looked to be just coming out of deep meditation and he seemed to be deeply troubled with what he'd found.

"Moving to take control of the Jedi Council, the Chancellor is." Master Yoda proclaimed grimly, referring to the new amendment that had just been passed an hour ago.

"I sense a plot to destroy the Jedi." Mace added in a voice just as grim. "The Dark Side of the Force surrounds the Chancellor."

"There is a massive shift in the Force." Obi-Wan mused. "We all feel it."

Even just this morning during his usual meditation he'd felt it. The Force, once a calm river of Light and peace, was now a churning white-water rapid, full of 'whirlpools' and other sorts of violent currents. It was now impossible to see anything in it. And it was only getting worse.

"On theories such as these, speculation is all we have. Proof we need, before taking this to the Council." Yoda decided.

"The proof will come when Grievous is gone." Obi-Wan stated with confidence that he didn't entirely feel. _At least I hope so…_

"If the Chancellor doesn't end this war after the destruction of General Grievous, he should be removed from office." Mace declared darkly.

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply. "Arrested?" _Is that really necessary?_

But then he rubbed at his beard and thought about it. The Chancellor was gathering up power and seemed to have some connection to the Dark Side. If he didn't relinquish his temporary dictatorship, then…

"To a dark place this line of thought will carry us. Mmm, great care we must take." Yoda warned.

Mace and Obi-Wan both nodded in agreement. Merely contemplating the things thatthey were was very dangerous. Obi-Wan prayed they would never have to follow the line of thought that Master Yoda spoke of.

_What is this galaxy coming to that we have to consider these possibilities? _

* * *

Less than a half hour after his meeting with the Supreme Chancellor, Vader found himself standing before the Jedi Council. His sense of personal doom had not dissipated any; in fact it had only grown. They were going to refuse or fight this appointment somehow and he had the sinking feeling he was going to be stuck in the middle. 

Taking a deep breath, he announced the Chancellor's decision to the assembled Masters. Once he finished, he waited for their reaction with mounting anxiety. Their response was not what he expected.

"Allow this appointment lightly, the Council does not." Master Yoda declared sternly. "Disturbing is this move by Chancellor Palpatine."

_You're telling me! _"I understand." Vader nodded respectfully.

"You are on this Council." Master Windu informed him. "But we do not grant you the rank of Master."

"Y-yes Master." Vader stammered in surprise. _What the heck? They're actually letting me sit on the Council?_

"Take a seat young one." Master Windu ordered, nodding towards a new, empty chair that had been pushed into the half-circle.

"Yes Master," Vader swallowed, walking over to the chair on legs that felt dangerously wobbly. He sat down and wrapped his arms around his chest as he struggled to shake off his shock. _This is nuts! _

"We have surveyed all systems in the Republic, but have found no sign of General Grievous." Master Ki-Adi-Mundi reported via hologram, moving on to other business rather abruptly.

"Hiding in the Outer Rim, Grievous is." Master Yoda determined. "The outlaying systems we must sweep."

"We do not have many ships to spare." Obi-Wan reminded them.

"What about the droid attack on the Wookiees?" Master Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"It is critical that we send an attack group there immediately." Master Windu stated.

"He's right." Obi-Wan agreed. "It is a system that we cannot afford to lose."

The Kashyyyk System was the gateway to one of the galaxy's spiral arms. Numerous hyperspace routes went through there. If the Separatists took the system, those routes would be severed and the Republic would lose all the systems beyond Kashyyyk.

"Go I will." Master Yoda decided after some deep thought. "Good relations with the Wookiees I have."

"It's settled then." Mace announced when there was no disagreement from the other Masters. "Yoda will take a battalion of clones to reinforce the Wookiees on Kashyyyk. May the Force be with us all."

* * *

When the Council session ended for the day, Vader left still feeling dazed by the utterly insane series of events. If someone had told him this morning that he would be appointed to the Jedi Council by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and the Council would accept it without any real resistance, he would've laughed in their face. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought something as insane as this would ever happen to him. 

"This is crazy," Vader muttered under his breath. "This is completely crazy."

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Obi-Wan murmured.

Vader almost jumped out of his skin. He'd been so distracted and consumed by his thoughts; he hadn't realized that Obi-Wan was following him. He came to a stop in a pool of bright light let in through a large window, one of many such windows in this particular hallway.

"Why did the Council agree to this?" Vader demanded. "It's madness!"

"The Council doesn't have much choice in the matter." Obi-Wan shrugged. "The Senate has granted the Chancellor this power and we have no say in his choice. Refusing to accept his candidate would only cause problems the Order would rather avoid. For the moment, winning the war is our priority."

Vader shook his head and wandered over to lean against the edge of the window. "That's not all, is it?"

"No it's not," Obi-Wan sighed, moving to stand beside him. "I didn't want to put you into this situation." He sighed.

"What situation?" Vader frowned, feeling a surge of unease.

"The Council wants you to report on all the Chancellor's dealings." Obi-Wan explained. "They want to know what he's up to."

"They want me to spy on the Chancellor?" Vader sputtered in disbelief.

"As the Chancellor's representative, you are in the perfect position to do that." Obi-Wan shrugged.

"And…the Council trusts me to do that?" Vader wondered disbelievingly.

"They don't have much choice. Whoever the Chancellor selected would get this assignment, and that just happened to be you." Obi-Wan replied.

Vader almost asked why the Council hadn't given him this assignment earlier when they were still in session, but then he answered his own question. This assignment, like a lot of things that dealt with him, was to be off the record. So if he got caught, the Council could easily deny having anything to do with it.

"I don't like this," Vader grumbled. "I don't like _him_! I don't want to be anywhere near him, let alone be at his beck and call!"

"I know, I know," Obi-Wan nodded. "I would get you out of this if I could, but it is beyond my power."

"I know," Vader sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool transparisteel windowpane.

He stood silently for a few minutes, thinking. _I could run away… But…_ He sighed deeply. _Damn it! Stupid conscience…_

"So is there anything specific that they want me to do?" Vader asked, feeling rather defeated.

"Just listen and observe, report what you see, hear, and sense." Obi-Wan instructed. "You don't have to sneak around and try to go through his things."

"Alright," Vader nodded, pushing away from the window. "I'll do that."

"The Council will appreciate that," Obi-Wan told him. "Now let's try and get some dinner before I escort Master Yoda to his Star Destroyer."

* * *

Obi-Wan barely managed to catch up to Master Yoda and Master Windu before they departed the Temple for the landing fields that serviced the Republic's Star Destroyer fleet. They all sat in the passenger compartment of a gunship, crewed by clones. Obi-Wan took this opportunity to report to the two other Masters how his charge was doing. 

"He did not take to his new assignment with much enthusiasm." Obi-Wan sighed.

"This is dangerous," Mace grumbled. "I don't think the boy can handle it. I don't trust him."

"With all due respect, Master, if you trust him so little, why give him the assignment at all?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"We have no choice." Mace sighed in frustration. "We need more information on the Chancellor and he is the only one who can get it for us."

"What think you about this?" Yoda asked Obi-Wan curiously. "Will he succeed?"

"He will not let me down." Obi-Wan replied. "He never has."

Though Vader could be a pain, especially in the beginning, he had never truly been disappointed by him. Vader had always done his best and managed to make it through every challenge put before him, exceeding many of Obi-Wan's expectations. Even when he ran off, it was a rare event, and he always returned.

"I hope right you are." Yoda sighed worriedly.

The gunship arrived at their destination shortly afterwards. Master Yoda hopped out and hobbled towards a waiting Star Destroyer as clone troops milled about, preparing to leave. There was a towering Wookiee there also, Obi-Wan noted.

As the gunship took off again, returning himself and Master Windu to the Jedi Temple, he heard the Wookiee roar a greeting to the tiny Jedi. The Wookiee was an emissary from Kashyyyk who had come to plead for aid. And now they were getting that aid, courtesy of the Jedi's greatest Master.

* * *

Padmé lazily ran a brush through her hair and stared out her bedroom window at the darkening Coruscanti skyline. She really didn't see any of the beautiful view though. All her focus was turned inward as she thought long and hard about what she'd recently learned. 

At the end of the meeting, Fang Zar had proposed a petition. It would be signed by all those involved in their group, a number that approached two thousand, and it would ask the Chancellor to lay down his powers, remove the Governors, and seek a diplomatic end to the war. After collecting all the signatures, they would present the petition to the Chancellor and plead their case.

It sounded like a good idea and Padmé had easily agreed to it. She even offered her own apartment up to house the next meeting to further discuss the petition. She hoped the long list of names would influence Palpatine to scrap his ridiculous idea of regional Governors and restore democracy. But if it didn't…

If it didn't, she'd throw her lot with Bail and Mon and their secret organization. She would do whatever they needed her to do. Because there was no way she would allow the Republic she served and loved to devolve into a dictatorship. She would not let democracy die without a fight.

But before she could be of any use to them, she would have to make some preparations. Setting her brush aside, she returned to her small darkened office and switched her terminal back on. Once it had loaded up, she opened a new document and began to make some lists.

_Let me see… I need to get all my affairs in order. I need to get my will finalized, I need to finally set up those trust funds I meant to get for Ryoo and Pooja, I need to back up all of my records… Hmm, I need to get my finances in order, tuck as much as I can away for later…_

As she typed up her lists, she could feel her son shift around inside of her womb. She paused briefly to pat her stomach until he settled down. And then, despite her growing weariness, she pressed on.

_I hope this petition works,_ Padmé swallowed, feeling her eyes begin to sting a bit. _Because if it doesn't, and the worst happens… Jedi or not, I won't be able to keep you. I'll be too busy to be a good mother, and things will be too dangerous for you. You deserve better… _

* * *

Vader sighed and settled down in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The soft sounds of flowing water were soothing and he immersed himself in it. Normally there would also be the faint sounds of children playing, but it was getting late and most of the Temple's children were settling down for the evening. 

Sighing again, he flopped back onto the grass in one shady corner and just laid there. He did his best to meditate, let all the stress, tension, and anxiety bleed out of him and into the infinite currents of the Force. It actually ended up working a little too much and he started to drift off to sleep…

A high-pitched beeping broke through his drowsy state and he snapped up into a sitting position before he was completely awake again. He glanced around for a minute before he realized it was his comm-link that was beeping. Drawing a hand over his face, he unhooked the little device from his belt and answered it.

"Hello?" He greeted, wondering just who the heck was calling him.

_"Good evening,"_ the voice of an elderly man replied. _"Am I interrupting anything?"_

_Crud, it's the Chancellor!_ "Oh, no," Vader answered.

_"Good, I was hoping you could come down to the Galaxies Opera House and see me in my private viewing box. I have some information for you."_ The Chancellor informed him.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Vader promised.

_"Splendid!"_ Palpatine replied. _"I'll see you soon then."_

"I'll see you soon." Vader responded, struggling to keep his voice pleasant. _Yeah, I'll see you soon…not that I want to. _

The connection was cut and Vader hooked his comm-link back onto his belt. Groaning he reluctantly climbed to his feet and strode out of the Fountain Room. He really didn't want to see the creepy old geezer, but the faster he got there, the sooner he'd be able to leave and come back to the Temple.

When he stepped out of the Temple into the cool evening air, it really hit him how late it was getting. He glanced around at the glittering Coruscanti skyline and frowned thoughtfully. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something he was forgetting…

_Oh shavit! I was going to go see Padmé today! Gah!_

Vader sourly kicked at the duracrete with his boot as he stewed for a moment. With all the stuff going on with the Chancellor and the Council, he'd completely forgotten to try and find time to visit Padmé. It was too late now, she was probably in bed or getting ready for bed.

_Stupid Palpatine,_ he grumbled, striding towards the Galaxies Opera House. _It's all his fault! Grr… _

* * *

Vader jogged into the Opera House, easily slipping through the front door and past the weak-minded doorman. Another soft-brained Opera House employee was perfectly happy to direct him to the Supreme Chancellor's private viewing box and then promptly forget him. And then, all too soon, Vader was there. 

The Supreme Chancellor wasn't there alone. He was sharing his private box with three others. There was Mas Amedda the Chagrian Vice Chair; Sly Moore, Palpatine's Umbaran aide; and Zo Howler, the Anx Senator of Gravlex Med. They all sat silently, watching a performance of the Mon Calamarian ballet, Squid Lake.

"You wanted to see me Chancellor?" Vader murmured politely.

"Yes, come closer I have good news." Palpatine beckoned. Vader obediently approached and kneeled down beside the Chancellor's chair. "Our clone intelligence units have discovered the location of General Grievous. He's hiding in the Utapau System." The Chancellor whispered to him.

"At last," Vader sighed in relief. "We'll be able to capture him and end this war."

"I would worry about the collective wisdom of the Council if they didn't select you for this assignment. You're the best choice, by far." Palpatine commented.

_Um, oookaaay…_ Vader struggled not to squirm in discomfort. Feeling uneasy, he tightened his shields…just in case.

"Hmm, sit down." The Chancellor invited. "Leave us," he instructed his companions. As soon as they had left, and after Vader had taken the now empty seat next to him, he continued. "You know, I'm not able to rely on the Jedi Council." He said suddenly.

"Oh?" Vader blinked, struggling to appear calm and not alarmed. "Why not?"

"If they haven't included you in their plot, they soon will." Palpatine shook his head and adopted a grim expression.

_Whoa! **What?** _"I'm not sure I understand." Vader replied slowly. _Do explain this to me. _

"You must sense what I have come to suspect." The Chancellor remarked, tearing his eyes away from the watery performance to study Vader. "The Jedi Council wants control of the Republic. They are planning to betray me."

"I don't think that–" Vader started to protest, but cut himself off, thinking furiously. _This is insane! It's **insane**! What the hell is he up to?_ Making a snap decision, he chose to find out… "I know they don't trust you." He said anxiously, instead of defending the Council like he'd started to.

"Hmm," Palpatine nodded, still watching Vader curiously, "or the Senate, or the Republic, or democracy for that matter."

Vader did his best to just play along and give the Chancellor the replies he seemed to want to hear, firmly clamping down on his own emotions. "I must admit, my trust in them has been shaken." _Not really, I'm just kind of annoyed I got stuck with this lousy job._

"Why? They asked you to do something that made you feel dishonest, didn't they?" Palpatine guessed. "They asked you to _spy_ on me, didn't they?"

_Oh shit! _"I don't, uh–I don't know what to say." Vader swallowed anxiously. _Crap!_

"Remember back to your early teachings." Palpatine suggested. "All who gain power fear to lose it." He pronounced. "Even the Jedi."

"The Jedi use their power for good." Vader insisted. _I do **not** like what you are insinuating! _

"Good is a point of view," Palpatine countered. "The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power."

Vader didn't know how he managed to keep the shock from his face. _'Good is a point of view'? What sort of man are you? And what are you doing talking about the Sith? _"The Sith rely on their passion for their strength." Vader mumbled, reciting the sparse Jedi teachings of the Sith. "They think inwards, only about themselves."

"And the Jedi don't?" Palpatine snorted softly.

"The Jedi are selfless," Vader frowned, "they only care about others."

The Chancellor fell silent for a while, turning back to watch the strange ballet. Vader took the opportunity to run through a quick, subtle meditation exercise to keep from breaking down into a panic. He had the horrible feeling that he was in over his head and only sinking deeper with each word.

"Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?" Palpatine asked suddenly, switching gears.

"No." Vader replied, trying not to sound as wary as he felt.

"I thought not," the Chancellor sighed. "It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians to create…_life_. He had such a knowledge of the Dark Side of the he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying."

Vader was appalled. The way Palpatine spoke of this Darth Plagueis, it sounded like he admired the Dark Lord. And the powers the Chancellor claimed Plagueis had creeped him out.

_He could create **life**? What **kind **__of life? …Scratch that, I don't want to know. _

"He could actually…save people from death?" Vader asked slowly, ignoring the creepier life-creating power.

"The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some find to be unnatural." Palpatine told him.

"Wh-what happened to him?" Vader gulped.

"He grew to be so powerful that the only thing he feared was…losing his power. Which, of course, he did." The Chancellor explained quite matter-of-factly. "Fortunately he taught his apprentice everything he knew. Then his apprentice killed him in his sleep." He paused and smiled. "It's ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself."

Vader felt vaguely nauseous. He swallowed hard and squeezed the armrests of his chair until his left hand hurt. But somehow he managed to keep his face frozen in a neutral expression, and his shields remained solid.

"Is it possible to learn this power?" Vader asked once he was sure his voice wouldn't betray his true feelings on the subject.

"Not from a Jedi." Palpatine replied.

The Supreme Chancellor then shifted his full attention back to the suspended globe of water and the performers inside it. And Vader was glad beyond words that the old man seemed to be done talking. But he couldn't relax yet, he couldn't escape. The Chancellor hadn't released him and he didn't dare offend this man who had laid the words he did against the Jedi Order and spoken so highly of the Sith. All he could do was wait and pray.


	60. 59: Secrets

**Chapter 59  
**_Secrets_

_A column of smoke billowed up into the night sky…_

_Flashes of light… Blaster fire? Lightsabers?_

_Screams of agony… Screams of fear… Screams of children…_

_Endless rhythmic marching of armored boots…_

_Death and destruction and terror…_

_He was running, running so hard, but the Darkness just kept spreading, and he couldn't stop it. Darkness everywhere, rising, smothering, drowning, choking–_

* * *

Vader tumbled out of bed with a yelp, crashing painfully into the floor. Disoriented, it took him a few minutes to realize he was no longer asleep, trapped in the Dark embrace of the nightmare. Even when he did recognize the dim confines of his room in the Jedi Temple, it still felt like the clammy Darkness had its claws in him, still felt like there were invisible eels sliding against his skin.

Panting harshly, he curled up on the floor, soaked in sweat and shaking. He felt terrible, scared like he hadn't been scared since his early flight from the Count. Adrenalin burned through his veins, making his heart and mind race just beyond his control. He started to feel sick to his stomach.

_I don't want to see anymore!_ He wailed. _I don't want to see! I just want to sleep!_

After the nightmare of the opera house meeting, he'd had serious trouble getting to sleep. Then when he did manage it, he'd suffered the nightmare again. And now he was feeling quite done with sleep for the time being.

Swallowing hard, he slowly got up from the floor and staggered out of his room to the refresher. A nice hot shower would help calm him down. And besides, he felt all sweaty and disgusting.

He shed his sleep-clothes and stepped into the shower stall, cranking on the hot water and just letting it wash over him. Vader had no idea what time it was, it could be two in the morning or two in the afternoon for all he knew. But instead of worrying about the time he simply fixed all of his attention on the wonderful feel of the water.

* * *

Obi-Wan got up early, as usual, and did a little stretching before leaving his bedroom. When he'd gone to bed, Vader had still been out. What he was doing, Obi-Wan had no idea. But hopefully he'd be back and able to explain his whereabouts.

To his immense surprise, Vader was already awake. The young man's hair was still damp from the shower and he sat slumped forward on the couch, his face buried in his hands. Obi-Wan sensed a muted sort of distress emanating from him and, based on previous experience, came to a conclusion about the possible cause.

"Did you sleep with Senator Amidala again?" Obi-Wan asked warily.

"Huh?" Vader groaned, peeking up through his fingers at Obi-Wan.

"Did you sleep with her again?" Obi-Wan repeated.

Vader stared at him, uncomprehending, then started to laugh. "Oh I wish!" He chuckled bitterly. "I wish that's what happened."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan frowned. "What happened then?"

"The Supreme Chancellor called me up, told me to come see him at the Galaxies Opera House." Vader sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "He gave me some information on General Grievous, but I'll save that for the Council session. What really bothered me was what he said after that…"

When Vader trailed off and fell silent, Obi-Wan was forced to prod him a bit. "And?"

"He began spouting some total nonsense." Vader scowled. "He told me that he believes that the Jedi Council is planning to betray him; that they plan to take control of the Republic."

"_What_?" Obi-Wan gasped.

"Oh it gets worse." Vader groaned. "I-I sort of…played along with him, just to see what else he'd say to me. He went on to compare the Jedi to the Sith and claimed that the Jedi are just as power-hungry. And then he told me a story, a Sith legend he said, about some old creep called Darth Plagueis 'the Wise' who had the power to cheat death."

Obi-Wan's jaw was somewhere in the vicinity of the floor at this point. "He said…_what_?"

"And it just wasn't what he said," Vader continued, "it's how he said it. The way he spoke of the Sith, it was like he admired them." He shuddered. "At one point, I insisted that the Jedi used their power for good, and he responded by telling me that _good is a point of view_. What sort of person says something like that?"

Obi-Wan found that he had no reply to that. He sat heavily down on the couch beside Vader and tried to absorb it all. He had never liked or trusted the Chancellor, but he never dreamed that the man was _this_ bad. He'd only thought him an ambitious, corrupt politician, not a Sith sympathizer and possible ally or pawn of the Dark Lord.

"You need to tell this to Master Windu." Obi-Wan managed at last.

"I know," Vader mumbled.

Glancing over at the almost despondent young man, Obi-Wan noticed how exhausted he looked. "Did you get to sleep at all last night?"

"Yeah, but then I had that nightmare again," Vader muttered. "So I gave up on trying to sleep."

"You're just having a bad week, aren't you?" Obi-Wan remarked after a moment.

"Mm-hm," Vader nodded.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Well, I'm going to take a shower." He announced. "Why don't you start the tea?"

"Sure," Vader agreed with a weak smirk. "I get to pick the flavor!"

* * *

Vader sat slumped in his new seat on the Jedi Council. The meeting would start in a few minutes, as soon as a stable connection could be acquired for the Masters who would be attending via hologram. His mind was parsecs away though.

An hour before the meeting, Obi-Wan had brought him to see Master Windu. They used Master Yoda's meditation chamber, even though the diminutive Master was away on Kashyyyk now and unable to participate. And then Vader had recounted his conversation with Palpatine from the previous night to the best of his ability.

Master Windu was, of course, shocked by what he heard. And he was rather annoyed that Vader hadn't denied that he was spying on the Chancellor. But what was done was done and after much thought, Master Windu directed him to continue acting the part he'd improvised in the opera house.

Vader reluctantly agreed. He didn't have much choice. He'd sealed his own fate last night, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

He was jolted out of his dreary musings by the start of the meeting. After the opening formalities, business began. And the first order of business was revealing the information he'd received on General Grievous.

"Palpatine thinks that General Grievous is on Utapau?" Master Ki-Adi-Mundi inquired, sounding a little surprised.

"A partial message was intercepted in a diplomatic packet from the chairman of Utapau." Vader explained.

"Hm, act on this we must. The capture of General Grievous will end this war. Quickly and decisively we should proceed." Master Yoda decided.

Vader took a deep breath and relayed the other thing Palpatine had wanted him to say. "The Chancellor has requested that I lead the campaign." _I don't want to face Grievous, but really, anything to get me away from the Chancellor! _

"The Council will make up its own mind on who is to go," Master Windu declared firmly, "not the Chancellor."

"A Master is needed, with more experience." Master Yoda stated gravely.

"I concur," Master Mundi agreed, "Master Kenobi should go."

"I agree." Master Yoda nodded.

"Aye." Master Plo Koon added.

"Aye." Master Windu agreed, giving the third and final vote needed to make it so. "Very well," he said when there was no disagreement, "Council adjourned."

* * *

When the time came for Padmé to host the next meeting of their little delegation, she found herself wishing for a protocol droid. Because of the secrecy that was demanded, she had had to send all of her Handmaidens away after they helped dress her. Moteé and Ellé had been worried, Sabé had been suspicious, but they had done as she requested and would return after lunch.

Now she had to set everything up herself. Thankfully her apartment was always kept very clean and her furniture was set up perfectly for a group meeting. But she had no server to offer drinks or refreshments, hence her wish for a protocol droid like Bail had.

Just before her guests were scheduled to arrive her mind shifted back to the past for a moment or two. Anakin had been building a protocol droid, and while it had lacked coverings, she found it to be an interesting character. If she ever did get around to acquiring a protocol droid, she hoped to get one like C-3P0.

Then the time for reminiscing of simpler times was over as the other Senators arrived. Bail, Mon, Fang, and Giddean had returned, but Terr did not appear. Instead, two new Senators came in her place.

There was Bana Breemu, Senator of Humbarine. Her world, and the entire Humbarine Sector, had suffered greatly during the war with many of the worlds in the sector ruined or captured by the Separatists. Many in the Senate no longer listened to her as they saw the entire Humbarine Sector as something of a lost cause.

And the other new face was Chi Eekway, a Rutian Twi'lek from Wroonia. It was difficult to tell that she was a Twi'lek as she was completely swathed in robes that reflected her deep Wroonian spirituality and left only her blue face visible. She hailed from a frontier sector at the edge of the Mid Rim where bending or skirting of the law was almost a common practice.

After greeting them all, she led them to her common room and saw them settled in. Once she herself had carefully taken her own seat, the discussion began. It didn't take long for their talks to get a little heated…

"We cannot let this turn into another war!" Padmé insisted.

"Absolutely, that is the last thing we want." Bail agreed.

"We are hoping to form an alliance in the Senate to keep the Chancellor from further subverting the Constitution," Mon assured, "that's all."

"I know a Jedi I feel we should consult." Padmé declared.

She'd thought a lot about it earlier in the day and it made sense. Obi-Wan was a wise man and a member of the Jedi Council, he would give them good advice. But if for some reason he was unavailable, she was even willing to risk contacting Vader to either get his opinion, or get into contact with another Jedi, like Master Windu.

"That could be dangerous." Bana Breemu cautioned.

"We don't know how the Jedi fit into all of this." Mon pointed out.

"I only wish to discuss this with one." Padmé replied. "One I trust."

"Going against the Chancellor without the support of the Jedi is risky." Giddean stated.

"I'm sure that the Jedi are not any happier about the situation than we are!" Padmé added firmly. _I know what Obi-Wan thinks of politicians and I doubt the Council is happy with this business with the Chancellor's representative. _

"Patience Senator." Chi Eekway advised Padmé calmly.

"We have so many Senators on our side," Fang reminded them, "surely that will persuade the Chancellor."

"When we present the petition of two thousand to the Chancellor, things may change." Bana suggested optimistically.

"Well then, let us see what we can accomplish in the Senate before we include the Jedi." Bail decided.

Everyone nodded their assent to this, Padmé did so only reluctantly. She briefly considered consulting with the Jedi anyway, but dismissed the idea. She had promised to keep this secret and speak of their group's intentions only to those that they all agreed should be involved. And she would keep that promise.

_At least consulting with the Jedi hasn't been completely ruled out,_ she consoled herself. _If the petition doesn't have the effect we wish it to, we will reconsider speaking with them. But I hope we speak with them, and sooner rather than later… _

* * *

Vader fought a rising surge of anxiety as he accompanied Obi-Wan to his Star Destroyer. His Master was going to face the monster, General Grievous, alone. And he would be stuck here with the creepy Sith-loving Chancellor. It wasn't fair.

"You're going to need me on this one Master." Vader frowned as they reached the boarding ramp that led into the docked Star Destroyer.

"Oh I agree. However it may just turn out to be a wild Bantha chase." Obi-Wan nodded cheerfully.

Vader laughed a little at that, but his humor died quickly. Dread rose up inside him, leaving him feeling cold, alone. It suddenly came home to him that Obi-Wan could very well fall to Grievous. The deadly cyborg general had already almost killed another Council member, Jedi Master Adi Gallia.

"Master," Vader swallowed hard, "I've disappointed you." _I must have._ "I haven't been very appreciative of your training." _Really, when did I ever tell you thank you for everything you've done for me? For putting up with me all these years?_

Obi-Wan looked a bit taken aback by this sudden outburst. "You haven't disappointed me," he smiled reassuringly. "You are strong and you are wise, in your own way, and I'm very proud of you. I have trained you since you little more than a paranoid street urchin. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could've ever hoped you would be."

Vader gaped at his Master, not quite able to believe what he'd just heard. His eyes drifted down to stare at the gray, featureless duracrete under his boots. Swallowing hard he tried to make sense of things.

_He thinks I'm strong, I'm wise? He's proud of me? He thinks I'm a good Jedi?_

His Master patted his shoulder and started to leave to board his ship, but Vader caught him by his sleeve without looking up. Obi-Wan stopped and patiently waited to see what else Vader wanted. It took him a few minutes for him to gather himself and say what he wanted to say.

Vader raised his head to look Obi-Wan in the eye. "My name is Anakin Skywalker."

Obi-Wan's expression barely changed, but Vader – Anakin – could feel the depth of his Master's surprise. The Jedi Master studied him for several minutes. And then he smiled and cheerfully shook Anakin's hand.

"Well hello Anakin, it's nice to finally meet you." Obi-Wan teased.

"Yeah," Anakin grinned weakly. "And when you come back, I've got a story or two for you." He winked.

"I shall take care of this errand speedily then." Obi-Wan promised and then walked up the boarding ramp.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin called when Obi-Wan had reached the halfway point. "May the Force be with you."

"Good-bye old friend." Obi-Wan smiled warmly. "And may the Force be with you!"

Anakin smiled back and watched Obi-Wan disappeared into the Star Destroyer. Once Obi-Wan had vanished from his sight, his smile faded as his expression grew troubled. Obi-Wan was leaving and soon he would be alone.

_Hurry up and come back Obi-Wan…before the Chancellor drives me crazy. _

* * *

Anakin sat beside a small trickle of a waterfall in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, alone. Obi-Wan had only been gone for a half an hour, and already he felt lonely. The bond between them was stretched so thin by the growing distance that now he had trouble feeling it. He could still feel it, it wasn't broken or blocked, he just couldn't feel much of Obi-Wan through it.

He really began to regret not forging closer ties with other Jedi. Sure there were some he would occasionally spend time with like Ferus and his crew, A'Sharad Hett, or even Barriss Offee. And there were others he might go to for advice like Master Yoda or Master Windu. But he wasn't particularly close to any of them. Obi-Wan was the only Jedi he truly counted as a friend. The rest were just all allies, acquaintances.

_I could go see Padmé,_ he realized. _I should. I'm going to,_ he decided. His mind made up, he stood and–

"Ah ha!" Someone cried. "Found you!"

_No…_ Anakin groaned as he caught sight of Darra striding towards him. _No, not her!_ "I wasn't hiding," he insisted.

"Sure," Darra grumbled disbelievingly as she closed the distance between them. "I need some things cleared up."

_Oh boy…_ "Like what?" Anakin inquired somewhat nervously.

"The Supreme Chancellor has supposedly placed a personal representative on the Jedi Council, but no one seems sure just who that is." Darra crossed her arms over her chest and studied him rather suspiciously. "So tell me, who is it?"

"What makes you think I know?" Anakin asked to try and side-step her question.

"Your former Master is on the Council, of course you know." Darra frowned in annoyance.

_Hmm, I think she's still unhappy with me for shutting the door in her face…_ "Right… Um, the Chancellor's representative on the Council…is…me." He admitted with great reluctance and unhappiness.

"You? _You're_ the Chancellor's representative?" Darra blinked disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Anakin shrugged, "I am."

"He picked _you_?" Darra muttered, still stuck in disbelief.

"Crazy, I know," Anakin nodded uncomfortably, "but yes."

"Why?" Darra asked.

"That's what I asked him," Anakin sighed. "And he told me it was basically because I saved his life on the _Invisible Hand_. I don't know whether I really believe that or not."

"Oh wow," Darra murmured. Her lingering annoyance towards him began to fade as she processed this and the awe and admiration began to flicker once again in her eyes. "So–"

"Darra!" Ferus called, jogging over to them. "Hey, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine." Darra sighed, annoyed at the interruption.

"Good," Ferus smiled, "I was worried with all the reports Master Tachi and I were hearing from Coruscant."

"Oh relax Ferus," Darra snorted, "like anything bad will ever happen here in the Temple!"

"Well no one ever thought that the Separatists would attack anything in the Core, let alone Coruscant itself." Ferus pointed out.

"That's different," Darra dismissed, "the Jedi Temple has stood for thousands of years. It'll never fall. At least not in our life times."

"Uh-huh," Anakin muttered. _That's a very arrogant statement._

"It won't," Darra insisted, casting a frown in his direction.

"I didn't say that it would," Anakin grumbled defensively.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. Why don't we go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?" Ferus suggested.

"Good idea!" Anakin grinned. He wasn't particularly hungry, but Darra wouldn't dare try anything with Ferus around in the middle of the cafeteria.

"Oh, alright," Darra agreed, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay," Ferus smiled, looking rather relieved.

However, before they left for the cafeteria, Anakin's comm-link decided to buzz for attention. "Damn it," he muttered, retreating a few steps to answer it in private. "Hello?"

_"Good afternoon,"_ The Supreme Chancellor greeted cheerfully. _"Could you please come down to my office as soon as possible?"_

_Damn it!_ "Of course Chancellor." Anakin agreed. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

_"Splendid!"_ Palpatine replied. _"Good-bye!"_

Thankfully the connection cut before he had to say good-bye in return. Hooking his comm-link back onto his belt, he looked back at Ferus and Darra. They both looked rather shocked.

"Was that the Supreme Chancellor on you comm-link?" Ferus sputtered.

"Yeah," Anakin sighed. "Ask Darra about it. I have to go."

If they said anything else, he didn't hear it. He strode off, fighting with his rising frustration. He never seemed to have any time to himself anymore.

_Blast it all, I was going to see Padmé!_ He scowled. _And I still don't know what Ferus was going to tell me! Force this job sucks! _

* * *

Padmé willed back her rising anxiety by submerging herself in her stoic Senator persona. She's first developed the particular frame of mind during her two terms as Queen. The only change she'd made to it since becoming Senator was that she dropped the monotone accent and the use of the royal 'We'.

Taking a deep breath, she led the chosen representatives of the Delegation of Two Thousand (as they had now decided to call themselves) into the Supreme Chancellor's office. At the end of the meeting that had been held in her apartment, she had been selected to lead those who would present the petition to Palpatine. Now the time for their appointment to meet with him had come.

With her were five other Senators. Fang Zar was the only one who had come that had been present at the other meetings Padmé had attended. Jar Jar Binks had also come, both as part of the Delegation and as a friend and supporter.

Meena Tills was a new presence. He was the Mon Calamarian Senator for Mon Calamari. While he worked side-by-side with the Quarren Senator, Tundra Dowmeia, his fellow Senator wasn't concerned enough to join Meena in the delegation.

Malé-Dee was another Senator of the delegation. He was the Human Senator of Uyter who had replaced his predecessor, Lexi Dio, after her assassination. Padmé didn't know much about him, but she found his brightly colored Mohawk hairstyle to be very interesting.

And then there was Nee Alavar. This last new addition was the Human Senator for Lorrd of the Kanz Sector. She, like the rest of her people, was talented at gaining information from subtle, unconscious body language, and to prevent others from reading her own posture, she wore heavy concealing robes.

For this presentation, Padmé had changed into her most concealing dress. She personally found it ugly, but the heavy, dull red dress covered practically everything but her face perfectly. It disguised every curve she possessed, not just her pregnant belly, and turned her into a pyramidal pillar of fabric. Out of the entire Senate, the last person she wanted to have suspecting her pregnancy was the Supreme Chancellor.

The instant she set foot inside Palpatine's red-and-black-themed office, she was hit with an unpleasant surprise. Vader was there. He was all business as he stood at the corner of Palpatine's desk. His face was locked in the typical stoic Jedi expression that barely wavered when he caught sight of her.

Managing to keep her composure, she strode over to the front of Palpatine's desk with her colleagues close behind her. She greeted Palpatine with polite formality and carefully took her seat. Jumping straight to the point, she presented him with their petition and sat back to see what he would do with it.

"I understand your reservations completely Senator," Palpatine assured her after he thoroughly examined their petition, "and I assure you that the appointment of Governors will in no way compete with the duties of the Senate."

"May I take it then that there will be no further amendments to the Constitution?" Padmé asked hopefully.

"I want this terrible conflict to end just as much as you do my lady, and when it does I guarantee an immediate return to democracy." Palpatine promised.

"You are pursuing a diplomatic solution to the war then?" Padmé inquired.

"You must trust me to do the right thing Senator. That is why I am here." Palpatine replied.

"Surely–" Fang Zar began.

"I _said_ I will do what is right." Palpatine responded sharply, cutting off whatever Fang had been about to say. "That should be enough for your…committee." He practically spat the word 'committee' out as if it were a dirty word.

Padmé felt her heart sink at this reaction. She knew then that they would get nowhere with him. Their petition was nothing more than an annoyance to him, one that he would most likely ignore. It was time that they took their leave.

She stood up and took a small step towards the Chancellor's desk. "On behalf of the Delegation of Two Thousand, I thank you Chancellor." Padmé replied as politely as possible.

"I thank _you_, for bringing this to my attention Senator." Palpatine smiled kindly.

Padmé stood there for a moment and regarded the calm, smiling Chancellor. Then she shifted her gaze as subtly as she could to take in Vader. His expression was blank, but he looked uncomfortable and he looked away from her when he spied her watching him.

With no more reason or desire to stay, Padmé turned and left. Her colleagues followed her without a word. As she walked through the halls of the office building, she resisted the urge to touch her stomach in response to the movement she felt.

_You **are **a little Jedi, aren't you baby?_ Padmé thought with some despair. _You knew that your father was there._

The entire time she'd been in Vader's presence, the baby had been moving…

* * *

Anakin was…annoyed…with the Supreme Chancellor. He'd originally been summoned to the man's office to, of all things, play holo-chess. Of course he played along, being the obedient little Jedi servant that he now was.

After a few games, which Anakin had lost miserably, the Chancellor announced that he expected to be meeting with a delegation of Senators. He invited Anakin to stay and observe. Though from the way he said it, Anakin felt it was more like a command. So when the delegation arrived, he was patiently waiting for them just behind and to the side of Palpatine's desk.

To his surprise, Padmé was there. She was dressed in perhaps the ugliest dress he'd ever seen her wear, which was probably all for the best. He couldn't afford to be distracted by her beauty and let his stern Jedi posture slip.

She appeared to be just as surprised to see him there, but she hid it well. The only clue he saw was the slightest hesitation in her step when she spied him. And through the Force, despite her strong emotional control, he could feel her spike of surprise, and then strangely a stab of anxiety.

Padmé seemed to be the leader of this little delegation and after exchanging some greetings with the Chancellor, she presented him with some documents. As the Chancellor studied them, Anakin took the opportunity to examine all the Senators present. He used both his eyes and his Force-senses to try and get a read on them, see what they might be about.

Aside from Padmé, Jar Jar Binks was the only other being he recognized. There was also a Mon Calamari Senator present, the rest were all Humans. There was a woman wrapped up in wooly-looking gray robes, a man with a stripe of bold reddish hair, and an old man with droopy eyes and a wild frizzy white beard. They all sat or stood quietly, nervous, hopeful, and determined. As far as he could tell, nothing was amiss with this group.

The Chancellor gave his response to the petition and Padmé began asking him some pointed questions. Palpatine shrugged off her concerns smoothly, though his answers to her inquiries bothered him. And then when the Chancellor snapped at the old man, his opinion of the Republic's leader somehow managed to sink even lower.

Padmé took that as her cue to leave and politely thanked the Chancellor for seeing them. Before leaving, she eyed the Chancellor, and then eyed him searchingly. Feeling uncomfortable and nervous at her attention, he looked away and prayed she didn't try and make an appeal to him.

She didn't though. Moments later she was gone and Anakin relaxed. But only slightly. He was still trapped in the Chancellor's shiver-inducing presence.

"Their sincerity is to be admired." Palpatine commented. "Although I sense there is more to their request than they are telling us."

_Us? What 'us'? _"What do you mean?" Anakin asked warily.

"They're not to be trusted." Palpatine declared.

"I'm sure that Senator Amidala and her colleagues can be trusted." Anakin frowned slightly.

"These are unstable times for the Republic; some see instability as an opportunity." The Chancellor pointed out. "Senator Amidala is hiding something." He added coldly. "I can see it in her eyes."

"I'm sure you're mistaken." Anakin replied calmly. _She was only a little surprised to see me, and a little nervous, that's all._ He hadn't probed very deeply though, anything more than a light scan without someone's permission was rude, a violation of privacy. There was no need for that here.

"I'm surprised your Jedi insights are not more sensitive to such things." Palpatine frowned.

"I simply don't sense betrayal in any of them." Anakin shrugged.

The Chancellor gave him a hard look, but Anakin returned it calmly, refusing to flinch.

"As you say," Palpatine said dismissively. "Come, let us play again." He commanded, returning to his little holo-chess board.

Anakin swallowed a sigh of frustration and boredom as he took the other side of the board and prepared to lose again. As he moved his pieces around the board, trying to look like he knew what he was doing, his mind kept drifting back to the delegation. He was very intrigued by what they had wanted.

_As soon as he lets me go, I'm going to visit Padmé._ Anakin decided. _I'll track her down and find out what this whole Delegation of Two Thousand is about. With how wary the Council is of Palpatine, I'm sure they'll be interested to hear about some Senators who share some of their concerns… _

_ …And I want to see Padmé. _

* * *

Padmé brought the delegation back to her apartment building. One floor above the main lobby was a sort of common area for building residents. They could host large meeting or small quiet parties here if there were more people than their apartment suite could comfortably hold. She made use of it now.

Other Senators of the delegation who hadn't gone to present the petition were already there, waiting. Bail Organa was there, as was Mon Mothma, Terr Taneel, Bana Breemu, Chi Eekway, Giddean Danu, and a few others Padmé had not officially met as part of their group. Some had been sitting, others had been standing, but they all quickly came to silent attention as she and her group returned.

"Well?" Bail prompted hopefully.

Padmé shook her head wearily. "His manner was polite and friendly, but he was not at all receptive to our requests."

"Hesa did promise ta return democracy after da war." Jar Jar reminded her hopefully.

"Yes, Jar Jar, but I feel he only said that to try and placate us." Padmé sighed.

"His manner of speaking and moving, especially near the end of our meeting, certainly indicated that." Nee Alavar agreed.

"This is…most disappointing news," Bail murmured at last. "Though not entirely unexpected."

"The petition has failed, now it is time to make other plans." Mon stated calmly.

"So now are we to contact the Jedi then?" Giddean Danu inquired.

"I do not think that would be a wise move just yet." Malé-Dee frowned worriedly. "There was a Jedi present with the Chancellor and I would like to know why."

All those assembled began to mutter worriedly to each other, but Bail quickly silenced them with a calming gesture. "This Jedi was mostly likely the Chancellor's chosen representative," he theorized. "Did you recognize him or her?"

"No I did not," Malé-Dee replied.

"Nor did I," Nee Alavar responded.

"He didn't look familiar to me," Fang Zar frowned.

"I can't say I've ever seen him before," Meena Tills answered.

"Um…hesa was…familiar," Jar Jar muttered uncertainly.

"I recognized him," Padmé sighed. "He was Master Kenobi's former apprentice."

"Oh, messa remember him now!" Jar Jar chirped cheerfully. "He look so different from the last time messa see him!"

"Really?" Bail blinked in surprise. "I never would've thought he'd be chosen for the position. Outside of meeting him one time early in the war I haven't heard a word about him."

"How odd," Mon commented.

"I think I may have heard of him," Giddean offered. "I was once consulting Master Tachi some months back and she seemed rather distracted. I asked her why and she told me she was bothered by the apprentice of one of her colleagues, I _believe_ she said it was Master Kenobi, and she said there was something rather mysterious about him that didn't sit well with her."

"Oh?" Padmé frowned a little worriedly. "Did she tell what was so mysterious about him?"

"She gave me no details," Giddean replied apologetically, "though she was rather agitated when she spoke of him."

"What do you know of this Jedi, Senator Amidala?" Mon asked curiously.

"He is very private, wary of people he doesn't know, but is friendly to those he is acquainted with. As far as I can tell he is very talented, however he has little contact with the Senate and seems to have a great dislike of public attention." Padmé replied carefully. "In the Chancellor's office he looked rather uncomfortable to me, like he would much prefer it if he were elsewhere."

"Even so, I don't like this," Bana Breemu frowned. "The Jedi are difficult for outsiders like us to understand, we cannot say for certain which side they will take."

_That's ridiculous, of course they'll side with us!_ Padmé frowned and was about to argue that, but was interrupted.

"I think this is enough for today," Bail decided. "We all have a lot to think about. I propose we meet again in my office in a few days." When no one disagreed, the plan became final. "I shall see you all in the Senate then."

After politely bidding each other farewell, the Senators began to disperse. Jar Jar stayed a while longer and chatted with her, but then he too left. Alone, Padmé stepped into the lift and gratefully rode it up to her penthouse.

She'd been on her feet for too long and her feet were killing her…

* * *

Anakin was in a good mood. After a few more rounds of chess, Palpatine had finally let him go. And after a quick stop back at the Temple to report to Master Windu on the Chancellor's handling of the Delegation of Two Thousand, he was now on his way to find out more about the group of politicians that Palpatine seemed to so deeply dislike.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the distant skyscrapers by the time he reached Padmé's building. He almost felt like skipping as he entered the lobby and headed for the lift. He was away from the Chancellor, hopefully for the rest of the day, he had no pressing business back at the Temple, and now he was finally going to visit with Padmé. Really, what could ruin that?

Near the lift that he needed to take, he spied Captain Typho. The one-eyed security man was talking to someone vaguely familiar. The man looked like a Senator, but which one was he? Did he live in this building too? Or was he just visiting someone who did live here?

"…well I heard – oh, hello!" Captain Typho blinked in surprise as he caught sight of the approaching Jedi.

"Hello captain!" Anakin smiled and waved.

The other man turned around and Anakin finally recognized Senator Organa. Bail didn't appear to recognize him and looked rather anxious to see a Jedi. Anakin was puzzled by the odd reaction, but shrugged it off quickly.

"Hello Senator Organa," Anakin bowed politely.

"Good evening Master Jedi." Bail replied neutrally, though Anakin could still sense that he was anxious.

_It's so weird when people call me 'Master Jedi'…_ "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important." Anakin apologized.

"No, we were just exchanging rumors about the Senate." Captain Typho cheerfully informed him. "What brings you here this evening?"

"Loneliness mainly," Anakin shrugged. "Master Obi-Wan was sent off to Utapau to catch General Grievous and they made me stay here." He complained.

"Really? Why did they keep you here?" Captain Typho frowned in puzzlement.

"I have to baby-sit the Chancellor," Anakin sighed, not caring that he was speaking this way in front of Senator Organa. He rather liked Bail Organa and had picked up that he didn't seem to approve much of the Chancellor either. "It's the worst job ever."

"Oh?" Bail inquired with a raised eyebrow. Anakin sensed that the Senator was starting to remember him now.

"Yeah, I'd rather clean up after the animals in the Temple menagerie than be the Chancellor's 'representative.'" Anakin grumbled.

There was a sort of small zoo in the lower levels of the Jedi Temple. A small assortment of exotic species from across the galaxy were kept there, mainly for educational purposes. A few of the animals had been received by various Jedi as gifts of gratitude, including a Kybuck Master Yoda had gotten from a thankful Wookiee chieftain after the tiny Master had helped heal his sick daughter.

"_You're_ the Chancellor's Jedi representative?" Typho muttered in surprise.

"Unfortunately," Anakin shrugged.

"Vader?" Bail blinked.

"Yes?" Anakin replied, struggling not to cringe at the name. _I'm so sick of being 'Vader'!_

"Oh my goodness I didn't recognize you at all!" Bail gaped. "What, with that scar and all, you look completely different!"

Anakin shrugged a bit uncomfortably. "Yeah… Captain Typho, is Senator Amidala home?" He asked, ready to get on with the true point of his visit.

"Yes," Typho replied, though now Anakin sensed that _he_ was the one who was anxious.

_Okay, this kinda is weird…_ "Oh good, I was hoping to catch her. She's not busy is she?" Anakin asked curiously.

"No," Typho shook his head and his anxiety increased.

_This is **really** weird._ "Okay." He turned. "Senator Organa, it's been nice seeing you again." He bowed politely.

"And it has been nice seeing you." Bail replied, his earlier anxiety totally gone.

Anakin then hopped into the lift and pressed the key to Padmé's apartment. When prompted, he entered his security code, the lift's computer accepted it, and the car rose up the shaft towards the towering penthouse. It felt like the ride took forever, though in actuality it only took five minutes.

When the lift doors opened, he scampered out and hurried to the common room where he knew she would be. Now that he was so close to seeing her, and seeing her in private where he didn't have to act like a stiff Jedi, he was excited. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed her company, roughly six months according to his count.

He found her sitting on her couch. She looked tired as she slumped in her seat, studying a small portable datapad. She was still wearing the ugly dress she'd had on in the Chancellor's office, though the headdress thing had been removed, letting her curly brown hair loose down her back and shoulders. He sensed that she was alone, all of her Handmaidens seemed to be out.

Considering his options for a moment, he paused in the entranceway to the room and watched her for a minute. Making a decision, he quietly crept over to her side and slowly sat down so that she didn't notice that he was there. And then he reached over and took the little 'pad from her hands so he could read what was on it.

"Ah!" She yelped in surprise when she suddenly discovered there was another person next to her as he took the 'pad from her. "Vader?" She blinked, clutching at her chest and panting from the shock.

"Yes?" He smirked as he scanned the information on the little screen. It seemed to be financial reports.

"You scared me!" She snapped irritably, smacking his arm as she recovered herself.

"I know," he chuckled, passing the small datapad back, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," Padmé grumbled, snatching the 'pad back.

"Someone's a little cranky," he teased.

Padmé made no reply to that, she simply continued working on the datapad and studiously ignored him. Anakin didn't really mind. He simply settled back in the couch and relaxed while he waited for her to calm down a bit.

Her presence had always been soothing to him, and he really needed some soothing right about now. With all the stress from the nightmares, being stuck with Palpatine, and with Obi-Wan light-years away and probably in danger, he felt like just taking Padmé away with him, maybe to Naboo, and enjoying a long vacation. He couldn't do anything like that so he endeavored to just take advantage of the opportunity he had now.

However the longer he sat there, drinking in her presence, the tenser she seemed to become. The anxiety he sensed in her seemed to be similar to what he sensed in Captain Typho, which confused him. And there was something else, a subtle difference in the feel of her Force signature that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Abruptly, Padmé set down the datapad and turned to face him. "What do you want?" She asked sharply.

Anakin was a bit startled by her mysterious poor mood. "You don't seem very happy to see me," he frowned.

"Things have been hectic lately," she replied, "especially today."

"I guess," he murmured. "What else did you do besides meet with the Chancellor?"

"Lots of meetings and hours of planning," she responded evasively. "So…you're Chancellor Palpatine's personal representative to the Jedi Council?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Anakin sighed. _Thanks for reminding me._ "I tried to get out of it, encouraged him to pick someone else more suited for the task, but he wouldn't have any of it. I was the Jedi he wanted, and he got me." He scowled at the memory.

"Oh," her expression softened a little. "I see."

"So," Anakin spoke again after a moment, "how have you been?"

"I've been well," she replied simply.

Anakin cocked his head slightly as he sensed…something. It wasn't a lie, but somehow her answer seemed to be…lacking, incomplete. It felt like perhaps there wasn't something she was telling him.

_…Senator Amidala is hiding something… _

_ Bah!_ Anakin shivered slightly as the Chancellor's words hissed at the back of his mind. _That's crap! Maybe she just got over a cold or something and doesn't want to tell me about it… Or something._

Firmly pressing the Supreme Chancellor's paranoid assertions from his mind, he shifted the conversation to a neutral topic – the weather. After a while, Padmé seemed to loosen up a bit. He even got her to smile and laugh.

It was almost like nothing inappropriate had ever happened between them, he reflected. Though every now and then he got the feeling that she was leaving something out when she answered a question or related a little story to him. He let it go though. If she didn't want to tell him, it really wasn't any of his business.

He stayed for nearly an hour and a half before reluctantly realizing that he should leave soon. He thought about telling her of the Chancellor's suspicions of her, but he refrained. Master Windu wanted to think this over for a little while and consult with some other Masters before warning the Senators. Anakin decided to save Padmé from the worry that the Chancellor had his eye on her and just tell her the next time he came over.

"I've got to go," he sighed, reluctantly getting up off the couch.

"Alright," she nodded and stood up slowly and carefully.

Anakin frowned worriedly. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I was just on my feet too much today," Padmé assured him.

Again he felt that she was omitting something, but he didn't call her on it. She followed him to the lift as she always did though she moved a bit slower than usual. When he paused at the lift doors to say good-bye, she moved to hug him, but stopped and held her arms at her sides.

"What, no hug?" He pouted a little.

Padmé looked a little startled. "Well it…it always seemed to make you so uncomfortable before." She explained a tad lamely.

Anakin blushed a bit. "Yeah, well, that never stopped you before," he shrugged.

"I have no desire to make you uncomfortable," Padmé insisted. "I'm sorry about before."

"Don't be sorry," he swallowed a tad nervously. "I like hugs," he shrugged, "you're just a little intimidating."

"Intimidating?" Padmé blinked in confusion.

"Yeah, you're an intelligent, strong, very beautiful woman." Anakin explained. "What man wouldn't find that a little intimidating?"

"Oh you…" Padmé looked away, blushing. "You're teasing me!"

"Oh no, I'd be much too frightened to tease a Senator!" Anakin smirked playfully.

"You _are _teasing me," she sighed, her hand reaching up to unconsciously play with the Japor necklace he'd given her.

Anakin only chuckled a bit in response.

Behind his grin, though, he was uneasy. Padmé had been acting strange from the moment she knew that he was in her apartment. She was anxious, evasive, and now unaccountably shy.

_Talk about role reversal._ Anakin mused. _She's kind of acting like me, and I'm acting more like she usually does…_

Pushing his thoughts aside for the moment, Anakin chose to act. He wanted his good-bye hug and he intended to get it. He'd be quick. She wouldn't mind.

Taking two quick steps forward, he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. She went very still, but made no move to push him away, or return the embrace. He blushed at his own boldness and gave her a quick squeeze. He was about to release her–

_What the hell?_ He frowned in confusion. Her conical dress didn't seem to have nearly as much give to it as it should. _What sort of dress is this?_

His hands slowly drifted down from her back, slid around her sides, and came to rest on her stomach. In doing so, he discovered that her stomach was not flat as it should be. In the time he'd been away, it seemed to have expanded outwards into a spherical shape.

Anakin backed up a few inches to stare down at Padmé, to demand an explanation for what he was feeling with a look, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. The slight unease he'd felt when confronted with her odd behavior now began to grow in leaps and bounds.

_What the **hell** is going on here!_ He thought furiously. _Why is she…is she…she's–_

And then it hit him like a herd of stampeding Banthas. No, it hit him harder than that. It was more like getting hit in the head by a falling meteorite.

"Padmé?" He whispered hoarsely.

"I'm sorry," was her faint response.

He felt dangerously lightheaded. His vision developed a gray haze around the edges. Silence roared in his ears.

_No… Please no… Padmé…oh Padmé… She-she can't be pregnant!_


	61. 60: Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 60  
**_Calm Before the Storm_

_A column of smoke billowed up into the night sky bracketed by tall thin towers…_

_Flashes of light… The whine of blaster fire… The hum of whirling lightsabers… _

_Screams of agony… Screams of fear… Screams of children… _

_Endless rhythmic marching of armored boots… _

_Death and destruction and terror and horror… _

_He was running, running so hard, but the Darkness just kept spreading, and he couldn't stop it. Darkness everywhere, rising, smothering, drowning, choking, strangling… _

_Padmé was crying– _

* * *

Anakin hit the floor with a strangled sob. He was so tired, so tired and strung out and beat up, that he just lay there whimpering quietly. Physically he was just tired. Mentally he was shattered. 

_Force, let me die…_ He moaned softly, pressing his forehead into the floor._ It's too much…too much… Ooh…_

He had no idea how long he lay there. He was too numb and dazed and exhausted to care. But eventually he became aware that this was not his floor.

His floor was carpeted. Not any fancy kind of carpet, just some short gray lumpy stuff that kept the floor from being hard tile. It was only the slightest step up from a bare floor, but something he'd come to appreciate when his nightmares drove him out of bed.

_This_ floor was _not_ carpeted. It was cold and hard. Too smooth to be tile, marble maybe, but definitely not carpet.

Slowly rolling onto his back, he cracked open one eye…and saw an inky gray sky with a handful of faint white pin-dots. He opened the other eye and blinked slowly. Somewhere nearby he heard the faintest sound of gurgling water, a fountain.

_I don't have marble floors. I don't have a glass ceiling. I don't have a fountain. _

_…But Padmé does._

His eyes slid closed and he groaned softly, tossing his left arm over his face. Apparently he'd crashed on her couch again. Though…he didn't remember falling asleep there, didn't even recall returning to the couch.

The last thing he remembered clearly, before he'd come to realize that this wasn't his floor, was one of the most horrible epiphanies of his life. His past crime was now intensified one _thousand_ fold. Not only had he slept with Padmé after unknowingly consuming an illegal drug, but he'd also _impregnated _her.

Perhaps if the circumstances of this were different, he'd be happy, overjoyed, to learn this. But the circumstances _weren't _different. They weren't married, they weren't even _dating_, she had no idea who he really was, she didn't know his true history, she was a Senator and he was a Jedi.

_Padmé…Angel…what have I done to you?_

He stiffly sat, then stood, up and staggered over to Padmé's fountain. Splashing some cool water over his face with his left hand helped clear his foggy thoughts a bit, though his mind remained dreary. There was absolutely nothing for him to be cheery about.

Peering at the dimly illuminated chronometer on the wall through the darkness, Anakin found that it was – surprise, surprise – just past four in the morning. Far too early to be awake, not late enough to try and get some meaningful amount of sleep. Not that he thought he could sleep again in his current state of mind.

With a sigh he sat back down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. Moments later he discovered that he was no longer wearing his glove. Removing his face from his hands and squinting around in the dark, he discovered his glove had been laid out on the nearby caf table, as was his utility belt. Also he discovered that his boots had been removed from his feet and placed neatly beside the couch, and his cloak lay rumpled half on, half off the couch, indicating that it had been most likely used as a blanket.

_Even now, after all I've done, you take care of me?_

Shaking his head, he reached over to pick up his glove and put it back on, then stopped and reconsidered. He was obviously welcome to spend the night here, and he had no desire to trudge back to the Temple at this hour. He might as well stay until morning.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he wandered over to the 'fresher to make use of the facilities.

* * *

Padmé felt awful. She felt sick from crying and exhausted from too little sleep. But her heart hurt the worst. 

Despite her best efforts, he'd found her out. He'd discovered that their one night of drugged passion had had more consequences than he'd previously believed. And now he was devastated.

He'd slipped into a sort of shock. She'd tried to get him to speak, but he didn't appear to hear her nor did it seem like he saw her anymore. He just mumbled some things under his breath that she couldn't decipher because it wasn't in Basic. Worried almost to the point of fear, she led him to her couch and got him to sit down.

She tried to wait out his shock, but when it got to be nearly midnight, she gave up. After removing his boots, belt, glove, and cloak, she got him to lie down. Whether he had managed to fall asleep or not, she had no idea. She'd gone to bed herself, though she hadn't slept very much.

Once she had retreated to the privacy of her own room, she broke down in tears. Now she regretted not listening to Sabé. If she'd left earlier, she wouldn't have been here for Vader to find and he never would've known.

Tears stung her raw eyes anew as the baby stirred inside her. One hand drifted to her stomach to lightly rub soothing circles in a half-hearted attempt to calm her unborn son down. His movements brought her no joy this night (or was it morning now?) and only served to remind her of some of the problems she faced.

Cool metal touched her hand and she flinched in surprise. Opening her eyes she squinted through the dimness of her room to find that someone was sitting on the edge of her bed. As her eyes found their focus, she determined that it was Vader.

"A-are…are you okay?" He asked softly, concerned.

"Yes," she swallowed, willing back a fresh surge of tears. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "Are you alright?"

"I…I don't know." He shook his head slightly. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his cool metallic right hand hesitantly curling around the hand she had resting on her stomach.

"Yes," she replied a little more firmly. She gave his hand a squeeze but wasn't sure that he was able to feel it.

"Oh, okay," he swallowed nervously, looking away from her.

"What time is it?" She asked after a moment. She would've looked at her alarm chrono herself, but it was on the nightstand behind her and it took too much effort to roll over and look.

"Five thirty in the morning." He told her.

"Oh," Padmé sighed. "That's it for sleep then," she muttered more than herself than to him. "Could you turn on the light, please?" She asked. He didn't move, but seconds later, the lamp on her nightstand switched on. "Thank you."

Now that she could see him, she could see just how hard he'd taken it. He looked pale with the beginnings of dark shadows under his eyes. He still seemed to be a bit out of it, his eyes were a little unfocused and his face blank of most expression. But at least he was talking to her in Basic now.

Taking a deep breath, she removed her hand from his grasp and heaved herself up into a sitting position. This new pose clearly showed her condition and upon catching sight of it, Vader gulped anxiously and pinned his eyes onto the floor near the edge of her bed. It looked like he was trembling.

Padmé had no idea what else to say, and Vader didn't seem inclined to start any conversation. The silence between them stretched out, growing heavier and more oppressive with each passing moment. She wanted to say something to him, comfort him somehow, but she couldn't find the words.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He asked suddenly, making her jump a bit.

"I hadn't intended to, no." She replied uncomfortably.

"Why?" He wondered quietly.

"I knew if you found out you'd be upset, and I didn't want to distract you." Padmé answered softly.

Vader fell silent for a while, thinking. He looked outwardly calm, but Padmé felt that he was probably a mess inside. She began to nervously fiddle with the edges of her sheets as the silence wore on.

"What do you plan to do?" He asked at last.

"At the end of the month I plan to return to Naboo and retreat to the Lake Country." She replied.

"And what will you do with-with the baby?" He inquired, stumbling over the question.

"Well that depends," She murmured, a little surprised at his interest.

"Depends on what?" He frowned in confusion, finally looking back up at her.

"On the midi-chlorian count," she explained. "If it's high enough, I'll send it to the Jedi. If it's not, I'll keep it."

"I see," he mumbled, his eyes dropping to her rumpled bed sheets. "You have everything planned out, don't you?"

"Well I've tried to," she shrugged. "This isn't the sort of thing I can afford to leave to chance."

Vader anxiously chewed at his lower lip for a minute. "Could you leave sooner?"

"If I had a good enough reason to, yes I suppose I could." Padmé replied. "I'd rather not though; I'll be missing far too much work as it is."

He began to trace random patterns on her sheets with his left hand. "So this is all a big inconvenience for you?" He asked neutrally.

She frowned slightly. "Only because I didn't plan for it. If I wasn't a public figure, this wouldn't be any problem for me at all." She paused before adding, "I've always wanted a few children of my own anyway."

"Oh," he blushed faintly. "Well, I-I'm glad to…to have assisted you, though I deeply apologize for the…appalling timing." He managed a weak smile in her direction.

Padmé blinked in surprise, then burst out in a fit of giggles. She couldn't believe that he'd said that! "No-no need for any apologies!" She laughed. "I'm quite glad for your" – she smirked – "…assistance."

His blush darkened considerably. "Y-y-you're welcome." He stammered. "Um, can-can I…get you anything?"

"Hmm," Padmé tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Breakfast?"

Vader blinked in surprise. "Breakfast?" He repeated. "Sure, I can do that! Um…anything you want in particular?"

_Hmm…_ "Surprise me," she decided.

He nodded and slipped off her bed and out of her room.

Now alone, Padmé settled back against the headboard of her bed and sighed. After his initial deep shock, he seemed to be taking this all rather well, she thought. She smiled a little and rested her hands on her pregnant belly.

_I wonder what he'll make me… _

* * *

Anakin padded into Padmé's kitchen and paused. _What the heck should I make?_ He wondered as he leaned against a countertop._ Eggs? Nah… Pancakes? Hmm…_

He poked around in a few cabinets until he found an old-fashioned wooden box. Inside were hard-copy recipe cards. One of them was instructions for pancakes.

_Ah ha!_ He grinned and set about collecting the ingredients and putting them together. It had been years and years since he'd last had to cook anything, but once he got started it all came back to him. As he drizzled the runny batter into circular splotches in the skillet, he let his mind wander a little.

Anakin was glad he'd gone to check on Padmé. He'd been a little leery of invading her room, but the distress he sensed in her had drawn him in. And he'd really needed to see her.

She wasn't mad at him, which was a great relief. In fact she claimed she wanted children, though not this very second. And despite the inconvenience the poorly timed pregnancy caused her, she seemed to have things under control.

_I'm glad Padmé knows what she's doing, because I sure as hell don't…_ He sighed and carefully began to stack the finished pancakes on a plate, clearing the pan for more batter._ I wish Obi-Wan was here…_

"Yah!" A startled yelp almost made him spill the last of the pancake batter all over the stove. "What are you doing in here?"

Anakin glanced over at the doorway to find Sabé standing there gaping at him. "I'm making pancakes, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"But…what…?" Sabé stammered in confusion. "Oh never mind." She sighed, shaking her head.

"Okay," Anakin shrugged and returned his focus to his cooking.

"You know how to cook?" Sabé asked after a minute.

"Yes, I do," Anakin nodded, casually flipping a few pancakes so the other sides could get done.

"I didn't know Jedi could cook." Sabé blinked, getting some plates out from a cabinet.

Anakin shrugged, "some can, some can't. I can. Obi-Wan most definitely can't."

"Oh, I see." Sabé snorted, taking some silverware from a drawer.

"No really, if there was a way to burn water, I'm sure he'd do it on a regular basis." Anakin smirked.

Sabé started to giggle at whatever mental image that statement had given her while Anakin carefully added the last pancakes to the stack.

"Dare I ask what is so funny?" Padmé asked as she wandered into the room. She was still in her nightgown, though she had covered up a bit more with a pastel-colored robe.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin replied, "can't cook to save his life."

"I wonder what burned water would look like." Sabé snickered.

"Interesting," Padmé said slowly, taking a seat at the table. "So what's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes!" Anakin grinned, placing the stack of pancakes with a theatric flourish in the middle of the table.

"Ooh!" Padmé cried in excitement. "I love pancakes!"

Her smile of girlish delight was more than enough to make him blush. "Oh good," he swallowed, smiling back shyly.

Padmé wasted no time in gleefully digging into the breakfast he had prepared and it was hard for him not to stare when she started out with four pancakes at once. Anakin and Sabé took smaller portions as they settled down with her for breakfast. They ate slower so that Padmé could have as much as she wanted.

As he consumed his meal, Anakin had trouble keeping himself from staring at Padmé. More specifically, to keep from staring at her pregnant belly. Her nightgown and robe did absolutely nothing to disguise her condition and she just…just looked so…different.

_This…is going to take **a lot** of getting used to… _

* * *

Padmé swallowed a sigh as she stood by the lift at the back of her apartment. It was time for Vader to leave, this time for real. She was admittedly disappointed; she wished he could stay longer. 

Sabé had already said her farewell. She'd opted to stay in the kitchen and clean up. Padmé suspected that Sabé had chosen to stay behind to give her and Vader some alone time together.

"Well I need to get back to the Temple," Vader swallowed nervously. He was now fully dressed again and aside from looking a bit pale and tired, he looked very much the same as he'd looked the last time he'd tried to leave her apartment. "Now, do I get my good-bye hug, or do I have to leave without it?" He asked shyly.

Padmé laughed a little and gladly embraced him. He tensed up when he came into contact with her stomach, but he made no move to push her away or immediately release her. In fact he seemed rather reluctant to let her go.

"I'd appreciate if you went home as soon as possible," Vader murmured into her ear.

"I have too much work to do," Padmé sighed. "I'll be leaving soon anyway."

"I know," Vader mumbled. "But the Chancellor is suspicious of you. After you left his office he told me that he thought you were hiding something, that there was more to your delegation's request than you were saying."

"What?" Padmé frowned, backing away enough so she could look him in the eyes.

"He didn't say it outright, but he implied that the Delegation of Two Thousand could be maneuvering to usurp his power." Vader replied anxiously. "And two days ago, he made similar baseless accusations against the Jedi Council."

"He did?" Padmé asked in alarm. _This is…worse than I thought._ "All the more reason I need to be here. I–"

"All the more reason for you to _go home_," Vader countered. "As soon as the Jedi Council has the evidence they need to get him removed from office, they'll do it. There's nothing more you can do that won't draw his eye to you more than it already is. And besides, it's not safe here."

"What do you mean it's not safe?" Padmé inquired.

"Something bad is going to happen, and soon. I don't know what exactly or when, but I know it'll be bad." Vader looked more than worried, he looked afraid. "I don't want you to be here when it happens." He pleaded.

"I don't know," Padmé sighed, looking away. "I have an important meeting coming up in a few days. But…after that…I'll think about it."

"Thank you," Vader sighed in relief.

He drew her close again and rested his chin on the top of her head, reminding her just how tall he was. Padmé exhaled slowly, resting the side of her face against his chest. An odd feeling of contentment gradually came over her and she briefly allowed herself to fantasize, to dream that everything was fine and the way it was supposed to be. But then she firmly pulled herself back to the present.

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" Padmé asked curiously.

Vader didn't immediately answer her, and she found that both intriguing and a little worrying. "No," he said at last, letting her go and stepping away, "not right now."

"Oh?" Padmé quirked an eyebrow in question. "Well whenever you feel like telling me anything else…"

He nodded quickly and backed into the lift. "I'll see you later," he smiled weakly.

"Good-bye," Padmé waved, just as the doors were closing.

Then the doors shut, the lift descended, and she was alone. Her son began to move around, as if in protest of his father leaving. She rested her hands on her stomach and slowly made her way to the refresher and her shower.

_Hush baby boy, it's alright. Daddy will be back soon. He'll be back…I hope._

* * *

Sabé couldn't help but feel a little bit smug. Vader, it seemed, had learned of Padmé's condition and he hadn't gone stark raving mad. Sure he appeared a bit nervous and awkward around her now, but Padmé's fears of how badly he'd handle it seemed rather unfounded. 

"Those pancakes weren't all that bad," Sabé remarked as she started to brush out Padmé's damp hair. "We should have him over to make us breakfast more often."

"That would be nice," Padmé smiled, "but I'm afraid enjoying his culinary skills will always be a rare treat."

"Pity," Sabé commented.

"Yes," Padmé murmured, "it is…"

The Senator appeared to drift off into her own little world for a moment, and Sabé had trouble keeping herself from smirking. She had a good guess as to what her friend and employer was thinking of… _Day-dreaming about your handsome Jedi, Padmé? _

"So," Sabé began, "it seems that Vader hasn't spontaneously exploded from the knowledge that you are pregnant."

"Well you should've seen him last night," Padmé frowned. "I should've listened to you and gone home weeks ago."

"Just so you could avoid him finding out?" Sabé shook her head despairingly. "_Padmé_…"

"He was devastated Sabé," Padmé protested. "I was almost afraid that he was losing his mind! It was like the lights were still on, but the rest of him was running as far away as possible."

"Well he just found out, what could you really have expected?" Sabé sighed. "Just give him a few days and he'll adjust to it all just fine."

"Just give him a few days?" Padmé sputtered. "_Sabé_!"

"Like you weren't shocked and upset when _you_ found out you were pregnant." Sabé snorted. "You got over it, he'll get over it. He just needs time. Who knows, perhaps he'll even get excited about it."

"What galaxy is your brain in?" Padmé grumbled irritably. "He's a Jedi, Sabé! Jedi don't have families!"

"He's also a man and he adores you," Sabé pointed out with some satisfaction. "I think there's a good possibility that he'll be excited about having a baby with you."

"He adores me?" Padmé repeated. "I don't think so."

"Of course he does!" Sabé smirked, catching Padmé's faint blush in the mirror. "I saw him cuddling you by the lift before he left…"

"He was not cuddling me!" Padmé cried indignantly, her blush darkening.

"I'm not blind Padmé, he was cuddling you." Sabé grinned. "And you were enjoying it. I know, I was peeking from the kitchen doorway!"

"He was _hugging_ me!" Padmé insisted.

"It was a _prolonged_ hug, which classifies it as a form of cuddling." Sabé gleefully corrected. "He likes you Padmé. He'd have to be an emotionless, blind, jerk of a man to _not_ like you!"

"Liking is not the same as _adoring_." Padmé pointed out.

"True, but with how often he visits, I'd say he adores you." Sabé replied.

"Well he's not going to be coming here very often anymore." Padmé retorted, looking a little sad.

"Not for a few days, no." Sabé easily conceded. "But once he fully absorbs this change in situation, I bet you'll have to chase him out of here so he doesn't waste his days cuddling you!"

Padmé only snorted in response, refusing to dignify Sabé's comment with civilized words.

Sabé grinned and began to style Padmé's hair. It was fun to tease Padmé sometimes. Especially when she was sure that she was right and Padmé was wrong.

_He **does** adore you Padmé, and he will come back soon, just you wait and see! Once everything has a chance to settle in his mind, he'll be fine with it, it's not like you asked him to help support the baby or anything! He'll come back… _

_And if he doesn't, so help me Gods, I'll march right down to the Jedi Temple and drag him back here myself! _

* * *

_I'm such a coward,_ Anakin sighed as the hot water of his shower poured over his bare skin. _I-I should've told her! I should have!_

But he hadn't. With everything he was struggling to deal with, he couldn't stand to add the sting of rejection to it all. No matter how he phrased it, he knew she would be angry with him. The only thing he didn't know was whether or not she'd ever forgive him once she knew.

_Oh this is awful!_ Anakin sighed. _First I sleep with her and now she's pregnant and she doesn't even know my real name! She doesn't even imagine that I'm little Ani, the dirty little slave boy from Tatooine! I'm so screwed! She's gonna kill me!_

Once he couldn't stand the steamy hot shower anymore, he stepped out, dried off, and got dressed. Trudging over to the couch, he flopped down and buried his face in his hands. He felt so worn out so…

_I – oh Force…I'm going to be a father._ The thought blind-sided him, leaving him feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. Again.

Anakin never had a father. He hadn't even had a _father-figure_ in his youth until Obi-Wan had come along. How was he supposed to be a father to anyone?

_Why couldn't I have gone with Obi-Wan to Utapau?_ Anakin wondered as he stretched out and the couch and stared up at the ceiling. _I bet he's having a much better time than I am…_


	62. 61: Darkness Falls

**Chapter 61  
**_Darkness_ _Falls_

Obi-Wan dropped out of hyperspace and was greeted by the sight of the yellowish orb of Utapau. He'd gone on ahead in his new blue-trimmed Eta-2 to scout out the situation. Hopefully Cody and the rest of his troops were waiting just outside the System, ready for whatever he found here.

Ditching the booster ring high over the atmosphere, he had Geenine bring them down to the surface. After skimming over the arid wind-swept plains, they dove down into one of the many deep sinkholes that dotted the planet. Inside was an entire city wrapped around the edges of the sinkhole in rings.

They landed on a pad that jutted out from the rock wall. Obi-Wan glanced around for a moment, before popping the canopy and hopping out. A tall gray Pau'an, who Obi-Wan assumed to be Tion Medon, the Port Administrator, glided over to greet him.

"Greetings young Jedi, what brings you to our remote sanctuary?" Tion Medon asked politely.

"Unfortunately the war." Obi-Wan answered regretfully.

"There's no war here, unless you brought it with you." Tion declared.

"With your kind permission, I would like some fuel, and use of your city as a base while I search nearby Systems for General Grievous." Obi-Wan inquired hopefully.

The Pau'an considered the request for a moment before he barked out some orders in his native language. Several small, squat, brown aliens scurried to hook fuel hoses to his starfighter. They were the Utai, the second intelligent species of Utapau, nicknamed Shorts due to their physical stature and their limited lifespan.

While the Utai refueled his ship, Tion stepped closer. "He is here." The Administrator whispered. "We are being held hostage. They are watching us."

"I understand." Obi-Wan replied quietly. _Well this is interesting…_

"Tenth level…thousands of battle droids." Tion added, spitting 'battle droids' out as a curse.

"Tell your people to take shelter." Obi-Wan advised. "If you have warriors, now is the time."

The Pau'an nodded and Obi-Wan scuttled back over to his ship. "Take the fighter back to the ship." He instructed the brassy-domed droid. "Tell Cody I've made contact."

Geenine whistled in agreement and cheerfully lifted off to run his errand. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, carefully backed away into the shadows of the landing pad with his hood drawn up. As he scanned his new environment, he overheard Tion Medon and the other Pau'ans talking as they departed.

"Is he bringing additional warriors?" Another Pau'an asked.

"He didn't say…" Tion Medon replied.

_Not to fear, help is on the way,_ Obi-Wan chuckled to himself. _Hopefully Cody will make it here soon. Now, I think I need some transportation…_

* * *

The transportation that Obi-Wan acquired turned out to be a fifty foot long feathered lizard named Boga. She was a fine specimen of a Varactyl with bright green scales and a glossy blue crest of feathers. And she was…spirited…almost throwing him as he rode her out of the corral where the Varactyls and Dactillions were stabled. 

She moved startling fast for a reptile, swiftly carrying him to his goal. He'd noticed a modified Trade Federation vessel, the spherical center of one of their donut-like droid control ships, attached to the wall of the sinkhole at the tenth level, just as Tion had warned. With a little Force nudge, he convinced Boga to soften her cries and move slowly and cautiously as they entered the shadowy recesses at the top of the sphere.

After scampering through a few tunnels and scrabbling over a few walkways, they came to a high ledge that overlooked a meeting area. General Grievous was there, speaking to the controlling board of the Separatists. Obi-Wan dismounted and crept closer so that he could hear what they were discussing.

"Safe?" Nute Gunray sputtered, standing up from his seat behind a long table. "Hmph, Chancellor Palpatine managed to escape your grip, General. Without Count Dooku, I have doubts about your ability to keep us safe."

"Be thankful Viceroy…that you have not found _yourself_ in my grip." General Grievous wheezed threateningly. "Your ship is waiting."

The Separatist leaders stood from their seats and obediently marched in the direction the cyborg general had pointed. Obi-Wan watched them leave with interest, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Once Grievous was alone with his droid forces, Obi-Wan decided to make his move. He shrugged off his cloak and leapt down to the floor behind the hulking cyborg.

"Hello there." Obi-Wan greeted cheerfully as the Magna Guard droids spun and activated their electro-staffs.

"General Kenobi…" Grievous growled as he turned. "You are a bold one. Kill him!" He ordered.

The droids moved to obey and Obi-Wan lit his sapphire saber to meet them. He dispatched the tricky Magna droids quickly enough and then used the Force to pull down a heavy catwalk and crush another group of battle droids. Before he could do anymore damage, General Grievous decided to intervene.

"Back away," Grievous ordered. "I will deal with this Jedi slime _myself_!"

"Your move." Obi-Wan invited, raising his blade into a guard position.

"You fool!" Grievous sneered. "I've been trained in your Jedi arts by Count Dooku!"

The skeletal cyborg shrugged off his gray cloak and drew some of his lightsaber trophies into his hands. His arms then split down the middle, turning two arms into four, each hand holding a lightsaber. And then he lit all four sabers, two green and two blue.

"Attack, Kenobi!" General Grievous snarled.

Obi-Wan shifted into an offensive stance while Grievous spun the two upper blades around in deadly pinwheels. The cyborg advanced, lowering the spinning blades so that they gouged the durasteel floor and showered sparks everywhere, the two lower blades he kept at his sides, pointed ahead and ready to skewer his target. Obi-Wan easily gave ground as he sought an opening.

When the moment felt right, he lashed out with his saber. Grievous stabbed back with all four blades, making it hard for Obi-Wan to keep up. He flipped over the towering alien general and he managed to slice off Grievous' lower left hand.

Growling in rage, Grievous redoubled his efforts to slay the Jedi general. Obi-Wan held him off though and took another hand off the cyborg. They hacked at each other for another minute or two when Cody and his troops arrived.

The clones rappelled down on wires and rode down on gunships. The rest of the droids rushed to meet them and a vicious firefight ensued. Grievous glared at the clash, then turned back to scowl at Obi-Wan.

"Army or not…you must realize you are doomed!" Grievous sneered.

"Oh I don't think so!" Obi-Wan retorted, then gather the Force and shoved the cyborg away and into a wall.

Grievous managed to land on a lower level on all six limbs and scuttled insect-like into a strange-looking vehicle. It was a single large wheel that he sat inside with four droid legs jutting out of the sides. Gunning it, the droid general tried to run Obi-Wan down, then blasted away down the side of the sinkhole.

Obi-Wan dove to the side to avoid being flattened and landed on a nearby catwalk. With a sharp whistle, he summoned Boga, who enthusiastically crushed a few droids as she rushed over to him. Leaping on her back, she darted off in hot pursuit of Grievous.

As he struggled to hang on while Boga raced nearly vertically down, his lightsaber slipped from his sweaty grasp. He watched helplessly as the silvery hilt spun away from him, out of his reach. There was no way he could get it back because if he stopped he'd lose Grievous.

_Just great,_ Obi-Wan sighed as he and Boga chased Grievous down into a dark tunnel. _Just wonderful! I could really use some help here…_

* * *

Mace Windu was troubled. At the moment, he was leading a review of troop movements over a holo-table in the depths of the Jedi Temple. Yoda, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Aayla Secura were attending via hologram. Vader was there in person, observing. 

He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about the young man. Vader looked exhausted and he only looked worse each time he appeared to give his report on the Chancellor. The stress of dealing with the suspicious politician appeared to be wearing on him significantly. Mace worried that the boy would soon be unable to handle the pressure.

_We should not have given him this assignment,_ Mace mused. _This goes far beyond our original agreement. It might even **violate** our agreement if it turns out that the Chancellor is in collusion with the Sith Master…_

A new hologram, one of the Clone Commander Cody, flickered into being between Ki-Adi-Mundi and Aayla Secura. "Master Windu, may I interrupt? General Kenobi has made contact with General Grievous and we have begun our attack." Cody reported.

"Thank you Commander." Mace replied and Cody's image vanished as he returned to battle. "Vader, deliver this report to the Chancellor. His reaction will give us a clue to his intentions."

"Yes Master Windu." Vader bowed and reluctantly trudged out of the dark strategy room.

Mace watched him go, sighing when the door shut behind the young man. "I have a bad feeling about this. Something is wrong about the Chancellor; the Dark Side of the Force surrounds him." He commented, echoing his earlier suspicions that he'd voiced to Master Yoda and Master Kenobi.

"If the Chancellor does not give up his emergency powers after the destruction of Grievous, then he should be removed from office." Ki-Adi-Mundi remarked, unknowingly repeating Mace's own thoughts on the matter.

"The Jedi Council would have to take control of the Senate in order to secure a peaceful transition." Mace mused thoughtfully. _Not that I'd want to. We have enough to do in ending this war._

"To a dark place this line of thought brings us," Yoda sighed, repeating his warning. "Great care we must take with our actions."

Mace nodded and stared down at the glowing table thoughtfully. _I hope that we are wrong to suspect the Chancellor of anything for our sakes. Though I doubt that we are…_

* * *

Anakin just felt so incredibly tired, and the feeling only got worse the closer he came to the Chancellor's office. Being in the presence of the old man seemed exhausting in itself. Pretending to be a mildly disillusioned Jedi Knight who was sympathetic, or at least open to what the Chancellor said chafed at him far worse than impersonating a Jedi ever had. All he wanted to do was just pack up and run away again. 

But it had to be done. It was a duty that he, while reluctant, had accepted. It was now his responsibility to follow it through as best he could.

Pausing outside the Supreme Chancellor's office, he ran through a quick exercise to try and get his thoughts in order. Tightening his mental shields, he straightened out his cloak and stepped inside the collection of spacious rooms that the Chancellor used as his office. It seemed to take forever until he came to the old man sitting at his desk.

"Chancellor, we're just received a report from Master Kenobi. He has engaged General Grievous." Anakin informed him as he came up to the Chancellor's desk.

"We can only hope that Master Kenobi is up to the challenge." Palpatine commented.

"I should be there with him." Anakin mumbled before he could stop himself. _Gah! I didn't mean to say that! But…it's still true. And quit bad-mouthing Obi-Wan!_

"It's upsetting to me to see that the Council doesn't seem to fully appreciate your talents." Palpatine sighed with a slight frown. "Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi Master?"

_Guess I'm supposed to answer that. _"I wish I knew." Anakin shrugged. Feeling the Chancellor's hard gaze on him, he started to pace slowly in front of the desk. "More and more I get the feeling that I'm being excluded from the Council." _They probably **are** excluding me, but I can understand why, and I don't care._ "I know there are things about the Force that they're not telling me." He added rather randomly, trying to sound frustrated though he thought he just sounded tired. _Yeah, they don't tell me because I don't ask…_

"They don't trust you," the Chancellor told him, getting up from his chair. He started to walk down the hallway of his office and Anakin reluctantly followed. "They see your future. They know your power will be too strong to control. You must break through the fog of lies the Jedi have created around you." Palpatine encouraged. "Let me help you to know the subtleties of the Force."

_Whoa, whoa, whoa, **what?**_ "How do you know the ways of the Force?" Anakin asked warily, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"My mentor taught me everything about the Force." Palpatine replied calmly. "Even the nature of the Dark Side."

"You know the Dark Side?" Anakin repeated stupidly. …_WHAT?_

"If one is to understand the great mystery, one must study all of its aspects, not just the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi." Palpatine patiently explained. "If you wish to become a complete and wise leader, you must embrace a larger view of the Force."

_What the **hell** is **wrong** with you!_ Anakin wondered as he tried to hide his horror and not stare openly at the Supreme Chancellor. _You sound like a kriffin' Sith!_

"Be careful of the Jedi, Anakin." The Chancellor warned. "Your usefulness to them is fast approaching an end and they will not hesitate in disposing of you to wash their hands of your specific deceit."

Anakin felt like someone had whacked him in the back of the head with a durasteel beam. _How do **you**_ _know **my name**? And how do you know about–_

It all made a terrible sort of sense. The main concern of the Sith was power, and as the Supreme Chancellor, he was arguably the most powerful man alive. And all his talk about power, the Dark Side, the Sith…

"You're the Sith Lord!" Anakin inhaled sharply. _Ah, I've been hanging out with **Sidious**!_

"Don't continue to be a pawn of the Jedi Council!" Palpatine frowned. "Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Only by taking your proper place at my side will you ever achieve any true significance."

Anakin could only stare at him. He couldn't think to speak, couldn't move. _No! No, no, no, no. no–_

"Remember Anakin, it was I who instructed Count Dooku to retrieve you from Tatooine and save you from that wretched ball of sand." Palpatine – Sidious – reminded him in a warning tone. "And it was I who had Dooku begin your training in the ways of the Force. Without me, you would still be toiling away as a slave in obscurity."

"I-I-I…" Anakin stammered dumbly. He could practically feel his shields crack, allowing his panic to seep out into Sidious' view.

"What is it that you fear?" Sidious wondered, looking amused as he detected Anakin's terror. "Do you think that I am angry that you killed Dooku? Of course not, he was always only a temporary apprentice. Now that he is gone, the way is clear for you to ascend to your rightful place."

Anakin managed to un-stick one boot from the floor and take a step back. And then another. And then another…

"Hmm, or perhaps you fear _me_," Sidious mused thoughtfully. "I suppose that's understandable. In fact, you _should_ fear me, especially if you should decide to defy me…" Sidious studied him for a moment, then graced him with a smile that more properly belonged on a kindly grandfather than a Sith Master. "Here, why don't you take a nice walk, consider your options. But…know that your time is short. When General Grievous has been disposed of, the Jedi Order will stop being an asset and start being a liability."

Anakin trembled at the hidden threat in Sidious' words and fled from the office. He didn't care if anyone saw him running or what they might've thought of him. All he was focused on was getting away. _Far_ away…

* * *

Obi-Wan clung to Boga's saddle with all his might as she careened down the winding Utapaun tunnels in pursuit of Grievous. She pulled up alongside the odd monocycle and Grievous began swiping at him with a Magna droid's electro-staff. But Obi-Wan managed to turn the tables and take the staff for himself so that he could attack Grievous and his strange mode of transport. 

Not long after that, Obi-Wan ended up jumping inside the wheel with Grievous to better attack him. The instant he left the saddle, Boga screeched to a halt and waited for him, just as she was trained to. Now that there were two of them in the monocycle, grappling with each other, the vehicle wobbled dangerous from side to side as it continued to race down the tunnel.

Grievous tried to pull his blaster on Obi-Wan, but he managed to dodge the blasts and pulled Grievous out of the cycle. They crashed into the floor of a landing pad of some kind while the now driverless cycle flew off the edge of the pad and down into the depths of a much smaller sinkhole. Then the fight really began.

Obi-Wan still had possession of the electro-staff, which gave him the advantage, but he didn't keep it for long. Grievous, after losing his blaster, knocked the staff from Obi-Wan's hands and began to mercilessly pummel him. The Jedi Master was hard pressed to keep from getting smashed into a bloody pulp by the durasteel limbs of the alien cyborg.

The Separatist general tossed him around, knocking him into the side of a small starfighter of some kind several times. Obi-Wan managed to slip in close and pry apart Grievous' chest plates, revealing what remained of the alien's internal organs. Roaring in rage, Grievous knocked him down and tried to stomp him to bits.

Out of reflex Obi-Wan tried to kick the cyborg at a point on his leg that would hurt an ordinary being. But Grievous wasn't ordinary; his body was made of bone-white durasteel. So all Obi-Wan did was hurt himself.

With a cruel cackle, Grievous hurled the limping Jedi over the side of the landing pad. Obi-Wan just barely caught himself on the edge before he joined the monocycle down in the depths of the sinkhole. Before he could pull himself up, Grievous was advancing on him, the electro-staff crackling in his claws.

_Oh, this is bad…_

Spying the forgotten blaster, Obi-Wan took desperate action. He called the weapon to his hand and fired at the opening he'd made in Grievous' chest plates. The alien cyborg stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest as his vulnerable organs caught fire. Obi-Wan fired a few more times, just to be sure that the other general would die, and watched in fascinated horror as all that remained of Grievous' biological parts burst into flame.

When the smoking durasteel remains clattered lifelessly to the floor, Obi-Wan was able to pull himself back onto firm ground. He wandered over to Grievous' scorched corpse, wrinkling his nose as she smelled the foul stench of charred flesh. Having no more need for the blaster, he tossed aside disdainfully.

"So uncivilized," he muttered in disgust.

Shaking his head, he jogged back the way he came to retrieve Boga. Now that Grievous was dead, he'd have to pass the word along to the Jedi Council. And then it would be back to wrap up the battle that he'd started.

_Almost home!_

* * *

Despite all his efforts at a speedy return to the Temple, he didn't get back and find Master Windu until afternoon had started to turn into evening. He found the Master with three other Council members, Agen Kolar, Kit Fisto, and Saesee Tiin, in the Temple Hanger. It looked like they were on their way to somewhere. 

Anakin trotted after the Human Master, desperate to speak with him. "Master Windu!" He called. "I must talk to you!"

Master Windu stopped and waited for him to catch up. "We have just received word that Obi-Wan has destroyed General Grievous." Master Windu informed him. "We're on our way to make sure that the Chancellor returns his emergency power back to the Senate."

"He won't give up his power," Anakin gulped, trying to keep his breathing under control. "He's a Sith Lord."

"A Sith Lord?" Master Windu repeated, alarmed.

"Yes, the one we've been looking for." Anakin nodded tensely.

"How do you know this?" Master Windu frowned.

"He knows the ways of the Force. He's been trained to use the Dark Side." Anakin swallowed. "And he knows my name, my _real_ name."

"Are you sure?" Master Windu asked.

"Absolutely." Anakin replied. _Why would I be telling you this if I **wasn't** sure?_

"Then our worst fears have been realized." Master Windu scowled. "We must move quickly if the Jedi Order is to survive."

"Master Windu, the Chancellor is very powerful," Anakin warned. "If you try to stop him, he won't hesitate to kill you."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It is a risk we must take." Master Windu declared firmly. "Wait in the Council chambers until we return."

Anakin thought about protesting, but he quickly caved. "Yes Master Windu," he mumbled miserably.

Satisfied, Mace Windu continued on to a waiting gunship with his three fellow Masters. Anakin watched as the four of them stepped on board and lifted away into the setting sun. And then he turned away and stumbled towards the Council chamber to do as he was told, unable to keep watching them zip away towards their doom.

_I've never liked Master Windu. I'll probably never like him. But that doesn't mean I want him to die!_

* * *

Mace Windu led his colleagues to the Supreme Chancellor's office at the back of the Senate rotunda. The shatterpoint, the point at which, depending on what one does, determines the outcome of a conflict, was drawing near. But instead of this being the shatterpoint of a simple duel, this was the point of turning for the entire war, for the ancient conflict between Jedi and Sith. 

If they triumphed here, the war would end, the Sith would be destroyed, and the leadership of the Senate would temporarily fall to the Jedi Council until a new Chancellor could be elected. If they failed, they would all die and the Sith Lord would turn his wrath on the Jedi Order. Whatever happened next would determine which fate befell them and the rest of the galaxy.

He stepped into the Chancellor's office and headed for the back, where Palpatine sat at his desk. The elderly Chancellor deactivated the holo-terminal that he was sitting at and turned to regard his Jedi visitors with a friendly smile. Mace fought not to tense as the atmosphere in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

"Master Windu, I take it that General Grievous has been destroyed then?" The Chancellor guessed. "I must say that you're here sooner than expected."

"In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic," Mace declared, lighting his violet lightsaber as the other Masters lit their green and blue ones, "you are under arrest Chancellor."

"Are you threatening me Master Jedi?" Palpatine growled, suddenly very unfriendly.

"The Senate will decide your fate." Mace declared sternly.

"I _am_ the Senate!" Palpatine snarled, standing up.

"Not yet." Mace retorted.

"It's treason then." The Chancellor hissed.

A lightsaber with a gold and black hilt snapped to the Sith's hand seemingly out of thin air. The old man stroked it with one finger as he glared at the four Jedi before him. And then he lit the blood-red blade.

With an inhuman snarl, the Chancellor abruptly vaulted over his desk in a spinning leap and landed right in front of them. Stabbing forward he instantly skewered and killed Agen Kolar, the Zabrak Master. Before he had even hit the floor, the Sith had turned on the fierce Iktotchi, Saesee Tiin, and killed him as well.

Mace and Kit tried to pin the Sith Master between them and attack him from both sides. But the wily old man slipped away from them, slaying Kit Fisto the Nautulan as he went. Now it was just down to Mace and Palpatine…

Sliding into the deadly and dangerous Form VII, the vaapad style, Mace continued to duel with the Sith. It was a very dangerous style of lightsaber conflict, one that demanded the user to walk a fine line between Light and Dark. And it seemed to be the only thing that helped him succeed where the others had fallen.

He ruthlessly slashed back, always keeping his violet blade moving, striking, like the deadly vaapad beast the style took its name from. The Chancellor was forced to retreat back towards one of the large wide windows of his office. Their blades shattered the transparisteel, removing the only barrier between them and the howling wind and the streets far below. Mace managed to kick the Sith's blade from his hand and pin him in the corner of the window.

"You are under arrest, _my Lord_!" Mace snapped, his blade hovering over Palpatine's throat. "The oppression of the Sith will never return! You have _lost_!"

"No!" Palpatine croaked. "No, no! You will _die_!"

And with that, he unleashed the one of the Sith's most perverse powers, the deadly Force lightning. Mace was nearly blown off his feet by its power and only just barely interposed his blade in time to avoid being hit directly. Straining, he struggled to reflect the Dark energy back at its source.

The Chancellor howled as stray bolts of his own lightning came back to strike him. With each hit, his face began to change. The skin of his face became discolored; it started to run like melted wax, it peeled away from his bones like rotting flesh. Finally the pain seemed to be too much for him and the lightning stopped abruptly, causing Mace to sway, nearly losing his balance.

"I am going to end this once and for all!" Mace growled, raising his saber to strike.

The Chancellor, though gasping for breath, didn't seem all that concerned. His sunken yellow eyes briefly darted to the doorway, as if he were expecting someone to arrive any moment. But no one was there, and no one came. He appeared to be…disappointed.

"No," the Supreme Chancellor snarled, "_I_ shall end this!"

In one fluid motion he called one of the fallen Jedi Masters lightsabers, ignited it, and swung it around to slice off Mace's sword hand at the wrist. Shocked, off-balance, and now weaponless, Mace desperately flailed to regain his balance. But before he could, the Sith returned to firing Force lightning at him, and now without his lightsaber he had nothing to defend himself with.

Mace howled in agony. It was a pain he'd never experienced before. No electrical shock he'd ever suffered before could even compare to this. Now he could understand why Vader hated and feared this so much.

"Power!" Palpatine cackled as he continued to pump lightning into the defenseless Jedi Master. "Unlimited power!"

And then Mace felt himself flying. Flying and then falling. Down, down into the dark Coruscanti night…

* * *

Anakin had gone to wait in the Jedi Council chamber as Master Windu had ordered him to. But he couldn't stay there. The atmosphere was too tense, too suffocating.

He'd sat in his chair and waited. But the longer he sat there, the worse he felt. It was like he was being pulled in two different directions at once. And there was a faint scrabbling feeling at the back of his mind, like someone was poking around there, subtlety looking for a way in…

Unable to stand it, he left the Council chamber and went to the Temple Hanger. There he hopped into one of the Order's high performance speeders and took off. Perhaps the thrill of going fast just for the hell of it would soothe him, or at least distract him from what was going on.

With no particular destination in mind, Anakin just drove around as fast and as recklessly as he dared. He paid no attention to where he was or where he might be going, he just went. It did help relax him a bit, but only a bit. Darkness hovered over everything.

Then something got caught on the edge of the speeder's cockpit canopy. Thinking it was just some driver's carelessly discarded trash, he veered out of the lane he was in and opened the bubble canopy to remove the debris. …It wasn't trash.

It was a Human hand.

He screamed, of course. Really, who wouldn't scream when some random body part hit their speeder? And he almost knocked it free and drove away as fast as he could. But then he noticed what the severed hand was still holding.

_Is that…a lightsaber?_ He blinked and very hesitantly reached over to grab the item in question, disgustedly shaking the dead hand off, letting it fall to the streets far below. _Ugh, gross!_ He shuddered as the hand swiftly vanished from sight.

Forcing the hand from his mind, he turned his focus to the lightsaber. Then his disgust morphed into pure horror. _Hey, I know this saber…this is Master Windu's! That was his hand! Agh!_

Feeling decidedly sick, he turned around and headed back to the Temple, not even bothering to close the canopy again. But the strange rain wasn't quite over yet as he soon discovered. At about the same place where he'd hit the hand, on his return trip he hit something else.

To be more precise, something landed in the speeder with him. Something roughly the size, shape, and weight of an adult Human male. Something that smelled of ozone, burned cloth, singed hair, and perhaps charred flesh. Something that was…

"Ah, Master Windu!" Anakin choked. _Gah!_

Master Windu only gave a faint groan in response. And then he fell eerily silent. Anakin almost thought he'd expired, but since he didn't feel his death, the Jedi Master still had to be alive.

_Ah, it's raining crispy Jedi Masters!_ Anakin panicked, nearly crashing before he could straighten out his flying. _Who's next, a fried Master Fisto?_

Thankfully, no other half-cooked Jedi Masters fell from the sky. It was crowded enough with just him and Master Windu. And it was more than creepy enough.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to conclude what had happened. Sidious had gone up against four Jedi Master, and had beaten them all. And now Anakin knew what would come next.

Locking the canopy tightly shut this time, he blasted off for the Temple at the highest speed this speeder could make. Putting all his weight on the accelerator pedal, he willed the shuddering machine to go faster. He had to get back to the Temple and try to warn them. And he was fast running out of time…

* * *

Anakin scrambled through the halls of the Jedi Temple, desperately seeking the last Jedi Council member on Coruscant who was alive and fully functioning, Shaak Ti the Togruta. Why she'd been left behind here and not gone with Master Windu to deal with Sidious he didn't know, nor did he particularly care. All he knew was that she was here and that he had to find her.

The few Knights and Masters that were still up and around at this hour probably gave him dirty looks for running like a lunatic in the Temple, but he didn't care what they thought of him. This was an emergency of the highest order. He had to get to Shaak Ti and he had to get to her an hour ago.

After he'd landed in the Temple Hanger, the skeleton staff that worked the night shift was shocked at what he'd brought back with him. Leaving the electrocuted Master with them, he'd called for a Healer, but didn't stay. He'd started his search immediately because he knew there was no time at all to waste.

Rounding a corner he was forced to skid to an abrupt halt as there was someone directly in his path. That someone turned out to be a very startled Master Tachi. She didn't say anything to him for a few minutes, seemingly at a loss for words. Anakin didn't speak because he was too busy catching his breath.

"Aren't you a little old to be running through the Temple like that?" She finally asked.

"Yeah but…I need to find Master Ti." He panted. "Do you know where she is?"

"Last I saw her, she was in the Archives." Master Tachi replied after a moment's thought. "Why do you need to speak to her so badly that you're running?"

"Thanks!" Anakin called over his shoulder as he bolted away to the Archives. He didn't have time to explain what was going on. Master Tachi would just have to wait, though she'd probably find out for herself all too soon.

A few minutes later he burst into the Archives and was immediately pounced on by the Head Archivist, Jocasta Nu.

"Young man, we do not _run_ in the Archives, we _walk_!" Master Nu scolded him, standing directly in his way. "You are more than old enough to know better!"

"I'm sorry Master Nu," Anakin panted, "but I must speak with Master Ti. Is she here?"

"Yes she is," Master Nu replied after a long moment of glaring at him for breaking her precious rules. "She is in the restricted section, only Council members and Masters with special clearances are allowed there. You will have to wait until she comes out to speak with her."

_Crud…hey wait._ "I'm on the Council." He pointed out.

"You?" Master Nu snorted disbelievingly.

"Yes," _temporarily,_ "I am. Please Master Nu, I really need to speak with Master Ti." He added.

Master Nu gave him a hard stare. "Well, since you asked nicely…this way."

Anakin slumped in relief as Master Nu brought him to the back of the Archives where the mysterious restricted section was located. She walked slowly though and that quickly grated on his nerves. But he didn't dare rush her, he was fortunate that she had decided to help him at all.

She brought him to a plain-looking door, locked with a keypad. She typed a code in, the door beeped, and then hissed open. It was much dimmer than the rest of the Archives and Anakin couldn't see much beyond the doorway.

"Thank you very much Master Nu," Anakin bowed politely and stepped inside.

The restricted section was a small collection of rooms. The first one he peered into was filled with dusty old books, the hardcopy paper kind. The rest of the rooms had data terminals, probably with special links to encrypted information that could only be accessed from here. Master Ti was in one of the rooms with a data terminal and she appeared to be studying an ancient file written in another language.

"Master Ti?" He interrupted hesitantly. He'd never dealt much with her and had no idea what she thought of him.

"Yes?" She blinked her black eyes in surprise.

"Um, there's a problem," Anakin swallowed anxiously. _To say the very least…_

"A problem?" Master Ti frowned, swiveling her chair to face him. "What kind of problem?"

"A big one," he sighed. "Master Windu failed to take the Supreme Chancellor into custody. He is being attended by Healers now. I fear the other Masters are dead."

Master Ti did not reply to that for several minutes. Anakin could understand that, he'd just delivered some very shocking news. But he couldn't help shifting nervously from foot to foot, they didn't have the time.

"Then it is as Mace has feared," she murmured at last, apparently lost in thought. "There is little time to prepare." Master Ti stood up, turned off her terminal, and began to leave the restricted section of the Archives.

"What do you plan to do?" Anakin asked curiously as he followed her.

"The Knights and Masters must be warned," Master Ti replied. "We must be ready to defend ourselves and our home."

"What about the children?" Anakin wondered. "And the sick and injured in the Healer's Wing?"

"They will be kept safe," she assured him. "Whatever the Chancellor sends at us, we shall not let it past our gates."

Cold dread began to congeal in his stomach. "But…there are so few of us. Most Knights and Masters are elsewhere, fighting the war. Are there enough of us to defend the Temple?"

"It does not matter." Master Ti answered. "We _must_ succeed here. If the Temple falls, the Order will crumble."

"But–" Anakin began to protest.

"Jocasta!" Master Ti called. "Spread the word that all available Masters, Knights, and senior-level Padawans are to report to the main foyer immediately."

"Yes Master Ti," Master Nu bowed and hurried off to do what she was ordered to do.

"Now you pass on that message too," Master Ti ordered him.

"Yes Master Ti," Anakin agreed.

"Thank you," she nodded slightly and strode off to help pass her order along herself.

Anakin sighed deeply and jogged out of the Archives. He'd spread the word, but he probably wouldn't make it to Master Ti's little meeting. He had a few other things to do first.

* * *

Anakin stormed into his room and tore into his closet. He yanked free his old pack and stuffed an extra change of robes in it on top of the supplies that it already contained. He was about to rush out again when he remembered something. Digging through his drawers, he retrieved a small data chip and jammed it into a belt pouch before leaving.

Master Ti was bound and determined to save the Temple at all costs. But she would fail. Anakin was sure of it, though he wished he wasn't. His nightmarish visions were too powerful to ignore, and now he thought he understood them. The Temple would fall and the Jedi Order would die.

When he reached the hanger he belatedly realized that he no longer had a starfighter officially assigned to him. But then he just shrugged it off, he would just take another one. It wouldn't really matter soon anyway.

He hurried over to the first Eta-2 he saw. No Astromech guarded it, giving him the impression that it didn't belong to any other Jedi. Hopping up onto the green-and-gray wing, he used his comm-link to summon Artoo to him.

The spunky blue Astromech rolled onto the scene as quickly as he could, though Anakin couldn't help but pace impatiently while he waited. When the droid appeared, he relaxed a little. But not completely.

"Hey Artoo," Anakin grinned weakly. "I need you to do a few things for me."

Artoo whistled cheerful, ready to receive his instructions.

"I need two things." Anakin explained. "One, I need you to find R4-P44, the droid I used to work with. Have him come here and wait for me. If you can't find him, get another free Astromech to do it. And two, I want you to go back to Padmé and give her this." He pulled the data chip out of his belt pouch and held it out to the Astromech.

Artoo moaned sadly and reluctantly took the chip from him.

"Thanks Artoo," Anakin smiled gratefully. "You're the best. I'd like to keep you longer, but Padmé needs you more now than I do."

The little droid seemed to be consoled by this and beeped a bit more cheerfully as he rolled off to fulfill his instructions.

Sighing in relief, he dumped his pack under the seat in the starfighter's cockpit and strode away. Master Ti's defense was doomed and he wouldn't make much of a difference, but he had to try. At the very least, he might be able to convince some of them to save the children…

* * *

Padmé yawned and sighed. It was late, she was tired, and bed was looking better and better. But she wanted to finish up one more thing before she retired for the night.

She was almost done with getting things in order. Soon she would be able to disappear from the galaxy and be set to do whatever she had to do, if she needed to. All that was left for her to do was finalize her will, and she would be doing that with her lawyer in a few days.

Sabé was still here. Padmé could hear her stacking data chips and disks in a box. Those data storage units were copies of all of her files and Sabé would be holding onto them for the time being.

"Why don't you get ready for bed?" Sabé suggested, coming over to Padmé's side. "I'll finish up here."

"Thanks," Padmé yawned and stiffly got up and shuffled off to her bedroom.

She gladly shed her dress and changed into a lighter, simpler nightgown. Next she let down her hair and brushed it out. As she tackled the snarls that had accumulated in her hair over the course of the day, she wandered out of her room and into her common room.

Through the glass ceiling and walls, she could see a wide swath of the Coruscanti skyline. It was beautiful in its own way. During the day, it was a silver jewel that shone in the sunlight. At night, the endless sea of colored lights made the planet sparkle in the darkness. But she personally preferred Naboo to the hectic urban sprawl of Coruscant.

The lift chimed suddenly and there was a familiar electronic warble. Padmé turned to see Artoo rolling into the room towards her. She was surprised to see her droid, to say the least.

"Artoo! What are you doing here?" Padmé blinked.

Artoo chirped a long string of beeps and whistles in response and he extended one of his arms. At the end of Artoo's arm was a data chip. Padmé took the offered item and studied it curiously.

"A message from Vader?" Padmé guessed.

The droid seemed to whistle a confirmation.

"Ooh! Would you get a datapad for me out of my office?" Padmé asked.

Artoo squealed a yes and rushed to obey.

_This is interesting,_ Padmé mused. _I wonder what he's sent me…_

"What's that you've got there Padmé?" Sabé inquired curiously, appearing with Artoo and a datapad.

"I don't know," Padmé shrugged, taking the datapad. "That's what I'm going to find out."

"Is it from Vader?" Sabé asked. When Padmé nodded as she loaded in the chip, Sabé smirked. "I bet it's a mushy love letter!"

"Sabé!" Padmé choked, blushing. "No it's not, quit joking around!"

"I bet it is!" Sabé teased.

"It's not!" Padmé insisted and accessed the chip's information.

There were only two files on it. And both had very simple titles. One was named TO OBI-WAN, and the other was named TO PADME.

"Hmm, interesting." Sabé commented.

"Stop reading over my shoulder," Padmé grumbled.

"But I want to see what all this is about," Sabé protested.

"You can read it after I read it." Padmé declared. "Now go sit over there," she pointed at a chair across the room.

"Oh fine," Sabé pouted and did as she was told.

"Thank you," Padmé sighed.

Settling back in her couch, she selected the file that was addressed to her. Before she opened it, she noticed that it had been created over a year earlier and hadn't been updated in nearly as long. Deeply intrigued, she opened it and began to read the text that came up…

* * *

Darth Sidious did not make mistakes. He made _miscalculations_, which were entirely different. And even those were rare to the point of being unheard of. This most recent snag in his plans was one of those very rare miscalculations.

Actually it was the culmination of a series of miscalculations. And that's what really made him angry. But instead of letting his anger rage out of control, he harnessed it, used it to fuel his Dark power. In the wider scheme of things, his miscalculation was negligible. His ultimate plan would proceed, just with a few alterations. And that was fine.

If only that damned Jedi had done was he was supposed to have done, what Sidious had predicted he would do, things wouldn't be quite as messy as they were. Back during the Trade Federation blockade of Naboo, he had set things in motion with certain visions in mind. His talent as a Seer far outstripped the pathetic little troll, yet now it seemed he hadn't Seen quite clear enough.

Qui-Gon Jinn was meant to find the Jedi's fabled 'Chosen One,' a child 'conceived by the Force' who would bring things back into balance. He did not. Instead he merely found a useful child trapped in a regrettable situation. He did not take drastic action as he was meant to and free the child, instead choosing to leave him behind for later examination.

That was the first problem in the series. Qui-Gon was meant to bring the vulnerable child into the Jedi Order, and in doing so sow the early seeds of mistrust of the Council in the boy. But he did not do this, and the boy was left in servitude on Tatooine.

Frustrated that Qui-Gon's apprentice did not learn of his Masters intentions towards the boy and seek him out, Sidious sent Darth Maul's replacement, Darth Tyranus, to collect the boy. If he could not plant the boy in the Jedi Order and activate him later, he would begin his life in the Force as a Sith. He would become the hidden apprentice that would appear when Dooku was at the end of his usefulness.

But that did not go as planned either. Dooku was not as skilled at manipulation and subtle guidance as Sidious had hoped he would be. He failed to engender a desire for power and Darkness in the child, and the boy had fled his torturous training.

Sidious had been enraged by Dooku's failure and punished his apprentice. However there seemed to be a bit of good news that came of Dooku's mess. The child found his way into the Jedi Order anyway, Sidious Saw it.

The Dark Lord considered trying to twist him the way he'd originally planned had the boy begun life as a Jedi, but he discarded the notion. The Jedi were obviously trying to hide the child and it would draw their suspicion if the Supreme Chancellor took an unusual interest in a Jedi Padawan that was not meant to be public knowledge. It was too risky, so Sidious had opted to be patient, wait for the coming opportunity, and attempt to trigger the boy's latent Sith nature.

And that was his worst miscalculation by far. He assumed that Dooku had managed to at least destroy the boy's trust of others, especially tradition-bound Jedi Order. Such lingering mistrust and hidden disdain for them would make it easy to persuade the boy to return to his rightful place, to take up the mantle of the Sith apprentice as he was meant to.

The Jedi, though, managed to corrupt his ultimate apprentice. They infected him with their weakness, their faulty beliefs, their flaws. He grew attached to them and their ways. And now he had turned his back on the true path, the Dark Path, the way to power and glory.

He'd made several offers to the boy, some more subtle than others. In the opera house, he had warned the boy away from the Council and then hinted at his Sith nature with the tale of Darth Plagueis the Wise. Then he'd tried to pull the boy closer by revealing his suspicions of the traitorous Senators. And then he'd just spelled it out for him.

It was admittedly difficult for him to gauge how his advances were being received. The boy had impressive shielding, it almost rivaled his own. And his physical and verbal responses seemed to indicate that he was tentatively accepting of his offer. Now it was clear that that wasn't true.

It was…disappointing.

Pulling a hood over his head to help disguise the terrible damage that Master Windu had done, Darth Sidious sighed in disgust and settled down behind his desk once more. He glared towards his broken window, making a mental note to have it replaced by morning, before bringing all of his attention to the task at hand. He pressed a button and activated a secret, encrypted link.

A tiny blue hologram of a Clonetrooper Commander flickered into view on his desk. _"Your orders Chancellor?"_

"Commander," Sidious rasped. "Gather the 501st legion, go to the Jedi Temple, and execute Order Sixty-Six…"


	63. 62: Order 66

**Chapter 62  
**_Order 66_

Anakin strode through the dim halls of the Jedi Temple, moving from the hanger up in one of the spires, to the main foyer at street level. It was a long walk, to say the least. But he walked it nonetheless. Stress, lack of sleep, and all the running he'd already done left him fatigued, and he needed to conserve his remaining strength for the battle that was fast approaching.

He rounded a corner and entered a hallway lined with enormous windows and–

"Hey, wait!" Darra called.

_No, not now!_ Anakin slowed down, but didn't stop.

"What's going on?" She demanded, jogging up to him.

"Get down to the main foyer and you'll find out." Anakin grumbled. _I don't have the patience to deal with you right now._

"Tell me now!" Darra pleaded. "I know you know."

"Yes, tell us." Master Tachi added, coming out of a side hallway with Ferus trotting after her. "I'd really like to know."

"Master Ti will explain." Anakin replied, picking up the pace a bit.

"Tell us." Master Tachi demanded, stepping in front of him and blocking his way. "I'm in no mood for games."

_I'm not playing games here!_ Anakin scowled. "There isn't any time for this."

"There is always time, now stop wasting it and explain." Master Tachi responded coolly.

Anakin was not in the best frame of mind to deal with this. Frustrated, seething, and scared half out of his mind, he glanced to the side, out a window, as he struggled to calm down, think clearly, and give her a short coherent answer that would hopefully satisfy her. But as he glared through the window, something caught his eye…

Squinting through the dimness of night, he walked over to the window and studied the wide walkway that led right up to the Temple. While it was never truly dark on Coruscant, even with the glow of the city lights and the streetlights that illuminated the walkway in question, it was difficult to see much very clearly. What he saw was enough though.

"Shavit!" He cursed softly, staring in rising horror.

"What is it?" Ferus asked, coming to stand beside him.

Anakin shook his head. "Look at that," he breathed.

"Clone troops?" Ferus frowned in confusion. "Marching here?"

"What?" Darra muttered, peering over Ferus' shoulder.

"What did you say?" Master Tachi asked. "What's out there?"

"Not just clone troops," Anakin swallowed as he got a better look at the color of their armor. "They're members of the 501st, the best of the best. And it looks like the entire legion is coming."

"But why are they coming here?" Master Tachi wondered. "This move makes no sense."

_There are too many…we're so screwed!_ "Take a wild guess," Anakin sighed bitterly. "We are at war Master Tachi. And I think we've just lost."

* * *

Obi-Wan hung on tight as Boga lunged down a path towards the command center he'd spotted. The air was thick with blaster bolts, but they were not struck as they raced on through. With a good tug on the reins, Boga skidded to a halt just in front of Commander Cody and his command team.

"Commander, contact your troops, tell them to move to the higher levels." Obi-Wan ordered.

"Very good sir." Cody nodded and started to turn away, then stopped and turned back. "Oh by the way, I think you'll be needing this." Cody called cheerfully, handing Obi-Wan his lost lightsaber.

"Thank you Cody," Obi-Wan grinned sheepishly, taking back his saber. "Now let's get a move on! We've got a battle to win here!" He reminded them and urged Boga away.

He directed Boga to take him up to the top level. From there he could survey the landscape and see just where his direct intervention was most needed. And if he was fortunate, things would be over soon and he could return to Coruscant–

The cliff face exploded underneath Boga's claws. With a shriek she, and he, tumbled backwards and down. Obi-Wan slipped out of the saddle as they plummeted together. And they fell until the water stopped them…

* * *

The wind howled, blasting stinging ice crystals every which way. The harsh fine snow was so thick in the air that visibility was dropped down to only a few meters in any direction. The towering skyscrapers of the city were mere hazy shadows that sometimes briefly appeared through the haze of gray-white.

Mygeeto was a frozen world, locked in a perpetual ice age. The gaunt-looking Muuns of the InterGalactic Banking Clan settled it and turned it into a vault for rich, security-conscious clients and into a mine for the rare crystals that Mygeeto's crust contained. It, like Cato Neimoidia, was one of the richest worlds in the Confederacy of Independent Systems and if the Republic could take control of it, the Separatists would suffer greatly.

On a narrow pedestrian bridge that spanned a deep icy chasm, Jedi Master and General Ki-Adi-Mundi led Clone Commander Bacara and his best troops in an assault on an enemy position. Towering tripod droids, which were just massive laser cannons with legs and some limited artificial intelligence, rained fire down on their make-shift barricade. But the narrow walkway limited the number of droids blocking them.

When the last droid was destroyed, Master Mundi leapt over the barricade and waved his troops forward with a cry of, "come on!" One good rush across this bridge and they could capture the next towering building. But his troops only followed him for three steps before abruptly coming to a halt.

Confused, the Cerean Jedi turned back and squinted back through the swirling snow to try and ascertain what the problem was. The clones were in combat mode, they had orders to be following, and as per their training, they were completely emotionless as they did so. That left Master Mundi completely in the dark about what was going on.

He was able to block the first few shots purely on instinct. But after that the volume of fire increased, and in his shock he simply couldn't focus enough to block them all. First one got through his defense, and the shock and pain distracted him enough that more got through, and more, and more. And then he fell…

* * *

It was hot and humid on Felucia, as usual. Only a hazy glow of light made it through the ever present blanket of clouds that hung high in the atmosphere. On the ground far below, there was a riot of color.

Fungus and primitive plant life dominated the biosphere here. Most of it was translucent, coloring the light that passed through it odd shades. Towering mushrooms and enormous translucent flowers reached for the cloudy skies of the sparsely inhabited world, reaching for the sun they would rarely see.

It was through this strange landscape that Aayla Secura, the Rutian Twi'lek Knight, led Commander Bly and the rest of her troops. They had originally come to Felucia to rescue some captive Jedi. Now they were on a mission to save the planet itself.

The leader of the Commerce Guild, bitter over her loss of the planet, would soon activate hidden pumps in the planet's water treatment plants that would release deadly chemicals and toxins into Felucia's water table. If the Guild could not keep this world, then no one would have it.

Picking her way down a narrow path, Aayla scanned her surroundings for lingering Separatist forces that sought to stop her. Behind her, her clone troops, riding both armored transports and native Felucian Ground Beetles, followed her, equally alert. She paused near a stand of enormous mushrooms and fern-like plants and looked around as a feeling of unease swept over her.

A small flying creature that the natives labeled a bird, even though it wasn't a _real_ bird in the traditional sense, burst out of the brush. Startled and distracted, she turned to stare at it as it lifted off into the sky. And this distraction proved to be fatal.

The Twi'lek Jedi never saw what hit her as Commander Bly and his compatriots shot her in the back until she stopped moving…

* * *

Soaring through the misty atmosphere, Jedi Master Plo Koon led an aerial patrol through the skies of Cato Neimoidia. Even though the Republic had conquered this world, there was still great unrest that required a Jedi to oversee it. So here the Kel Dor Master was, seeking any outbreak of violence.

He prowled the airways in the outdated but still serviceable Delta-7 while his clone wingmen piloted a pair of ARC-170s. They flew from city-span to city-span as they were needed. At the moment, they were almost to their next destination.

Suddenly his Astromech unit warbled in confused alarm as it detected something strange. Squinting through his protective goggles that kept the high levels of oxygen in his cockpit pod from damaging the delicate membranes of his eyes, he studied his displays to see what the problem was. His wingmen seemed to be powering up their shields, weapon systems, and had spread their S-foils into the attack position.

Without warning, they opened fire before he even thought of bringing up his own shields. Suffering a direct hit, the back half of his Delta-7 caught fire, throwing him forward in his seat. The controls shorted out and spewed smoke as the thrusters, wing flaps, and engines were destroyed.

Now little more than a ball of smoke, flames, and molten metal, Plo Koon's Delta-7 spiraled out of the cloudy sky to crash into the skyscraper-covered suspension span below…

* * *

It was growing dark as dusk settled over the arid world of Saleucami. The dry rugged planet was host to no intelligent life and had been held by the Separatists and used in an attempt to grow them their own clone army. Aside from the strange almost balloon-like plants, the world had nothing significant to set it apart from any other barren planet in the galaxy.

Jedi Master Quinlan Vos had been victorious here a week earlier, driving the Separatists away before he shifted his troops on to fronts on Boz Pity. Now only Jedi Master Stass Allie and a small detachment of clones remained behind to mop things up. There still could be active droids out here that could cause problems.

As the shadows continued to deepen, Stass Allie led two troopers on a speeder bike patrol through the fringes of an old battle field still strewn with wreckage and corpses. She was a Corellian and a cousin to the famous Adi Gallia. Out of admiration for her older cousin, she had taken to wearing the same odd style of headdress. Though instead of becoming a diplomat and warrior like Adi, Stass had gone on to study healing.

However with the outbreak of war she had been forced to polish up on her old lightsaber techniques and take up the mantle of command. It wasn't something she was happy about, but this was where she was needed now. She'd return to healing when the battles were won and peace was returned.

She rode on her lightly armed basic speeder-bike in the lead while the two clones that flanked her followed slightly behind on much more heavily armed BARC speeder-bikes. Her eyes and senses were fixed forward, scanning for threats. She was completely oblivious to the movements of her two soldiers, even when the suddenly cut their speed to fall further behind her.

Being attacked from behind was something that Stass wasn't prepared for, something she'd never thought of because her clone soldiers were there to protect her. Her speeder-bike exploded beneath her before she had time to process the fact that she was being attacked. Still carried by her momentum, she continued on for several more yards before slamming into the hard ground.

Jedi Master Stass Allie died instantly without ever realizing that it was her own soldiers that had killed her…

* * *

The sun had set less than an hour ago and the sky still held some color and glow. All was quiet and Nejaa Halcyon was in a rather good mood as he hiked back through the woods to the Corellian Temple. There was a road he could use, but it was a long twisting one, and he preferred walking a straight line through the trees to trying to follow a boring old road. He'd just finished a visit to Mina and baby Valin and was a little disappointed that he'd had to leave. He was expected for a meeting early the next morning and if he stayed over night in Coronet with Mina, he'd be late.

Valin was just over a year old now and was toddling everywhere and even starting to talk a little bit. Mina had spent all afternoon and evening showing off all the new things he could do and the memories of it still had him smiling. It had really been nice to spend some time with his family; he never could be with them as much as he wanted.

In fact, it had taken nearly an hour to get Valin to warm up to him. Nejaa was away so much that Valin had no idea that the funny man in the cloak was his father. He just thought that Nejaa was a friend of his Mommy's.

The Corellian knew he would never get to spend as much time with his wife and son as he would like. He was a Jedi Master and he had many important responsibilities that had to come first. But with the war still raging all over the galaxy, he was able to spend even less time than he would've been able to otherwise.

But rumor had it that the war would be winding down soon. And then he could spend more time with Mina and Valin. Who knew, maybe Valin would even get the chance to figure out that the funny man in the cloak that visited all the time was Daddy…

Nejaa stepped out of the fringes of the forest and paused to look over the small but sprawling Corellian Temple. Some windows were lit, but most were dark, showing just how empty the Temple had become. He would be surprised if there were more than a hundred Jedi present, and most of them were Healers, aged Masters, the injured who were recovering here, and the very young.

He was about to start walking again when a sound reached his ears. It sounded like the dry growl of the engines of the ARC-170, a whole squadron of them. And they were getting closer.

Frowning he looked up in time to see them swoop overhead. He watched them make a wide arcing turn and line up again to make another pass over the Temple. His confusion at the odd evening maneuver turned to shock and then horror as the ARC-170s locked their S-foils into attack position and started firing proton torpedoes into the Temple buildings and strafing the gardens with their lasers.

In seconds a good third of the Temple was destroyed and the fighters started another wide turn that would bring them back on target. Horrified by the unexpected destruction, he almost missed the clones. The entire battalion stationed in Coronet seemed to be here now, marching down the road to the Temple with their heavy blasters in their hands.

Nejaa stood frozen to the spot as the carnage intensified. He was still close enough to the trees to escape notice from the attacking clones and that was the only thing that kept him from being shot. He was just paralyzed by the shock and the feelings of all his comrades in the Temple dying.

One particularly large explosion was enough to physically jolt him back into motion. He took one step towards the besieged Temple, but stopped. Now he was frozen in indecision rather than shock.

It was his duty to defend the Temple and all the Jedi in residence there. Not only that, but he had many friends and students there. But there were just too many enemies there. He'd probably be killed if he tried to go there. The Temple was in flames. Was there really anyone left to save?

Then there were Mina and Valin back in Coronet. Where they safe? Or had they been targeted too as being connected with a Jedi?

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to turn away from the ruined Temple. And then he did the more difficult thing he'd ever done in his life. He ran away…

* * *

As he surveyed the raging battle on the beach below from a Wookiee platform up in a tree, Yoda staggered. His gnarled gimmer stick cane fell from his clawed hand. Clutching at his chest, he sank to his knees and gasped in pain.

The Jedi, his children, were dying. He could feel them. Every death was another stab in his heart. And so many..._so many_...

Distantly, he was aware that the two clone troopers that surveyed the battle with him had drawn nearer. There was the faint clicking sound of blasters being drawn and cocked. He knew then.

Leaping upwards he drew his tiny lightsaber, lit it, and in one fluid swing decapitated them both. He landed easily and graceful, and put his lightsaber away. Behind him, the two clone corpses fell to the floor like broken dolls.

Chewbacca and Tarfful, who had watched the attack in stunned silence, yowled in alarm. Without a second thought they invited the tiny Jedi Master to follow them. Yoda hobbled after them and scampered up Chewbacca's arm to ride on the lanky Wookiee's shoulder.

And then the three of them vanished into Kashyyyk's dense tropical jungle...

* * *

It was times like these that Anakin hated being right. Absolutely _hated_ it. Because now everything was going to hell, just like he'd known it would.

The 501st was, as he'd said, the best of the best. The members of the legion had been attached to various other units to gain experience from a wide range of campaigns. Their training went above and beyond the training of other clones, and they had fought on every kind of terrain. They were especially skilled in fighting in urban situations, taking control a city block by block, a block building by building, a building room by room. And that's exactly what they were doing here.

They marched down the halls, checking every room, killing any Jedi they encountered. When they hit a particularly tough Jedi, some would hold his attention, while others would circle around and attack from behind, or from a side hallway. As soon as all the Jedi were dead in an area, they moved on. And they blocked every entrance and exit to the outside as they went, slowly transforming the Temple into a sealed slaughterhouse.

After spying the 501st approaching, all four of them had hurried for the Temple foyer. The Temple was just too big though and they didn't make it. The clones of the 501st in their blue and white armor had stormed through the front gates and slaughtered all the Jedi who had been waiting long before they could get there.

The troopers met them halfway. The hail of blaster fire and the chaos of blades and shouting divided them. When Anakin broke free of the fight and made it to a calmer, empty hallway, he was alone.

He knew a lost cause when he saw one, so when he ran into another Jedi, he passed along a new order to them. Get out, get off Coruscant, go as far away as possible, and hide, survive. If they asked, he claimed it was an order from the Council. It wasn't _entirely_ true, but he was a Council member still, his membership hadn't been officially revoked yet, so what he said was as good as an order from the Council since the Council wasn't around to discuss it.

Many refused his orders. They didn't believe him, or they wouldn't. To abandon the Temple, the only home they'd ever known, was something they could not do. Death seemed to be the only thing they could accept now, death in protecting their Temple, their home. A rootless survival was something they couldn't even contemplate.

But some did listen. It hurt them, but they listened and did as he said. And as they fled, Anakin charged them with evacuating any children or wounded they came across.

He himself did not leave though. He didn't really know why. It was stupid. The longer he stayed, the more likely it was that he wouldn't make it out, that he'd die here. But still he stayed.

His arms felt heavy, stiff, almost like lead, as he swung, sliced, deflected. His lungs burned like fire as he gasped for breath while he ran. His legs shook as he tried to stand, run. And yet he kept on moving, fighting, shouting.

And now he was beginning to find Jedi already dead or dying. He was beginning to find places were the clones were so thick, he didn't dare try to break through them. The air was rank with the smell of ozone, burned cloth, charred flesh, and an acrid whiff of smoke.

The Archives were on fire. A firefight had set the ancient paper volumes on fire. And now millennia of collected knowledge was going up in smoke. And the fire kept on spreading…

* * *

After nearly an hour of examining the document, a letter written to her, she finally set the datapad down. At first she'd skimmed over the letter, dying of curiosity to see what it had to say. But then she stopped, and started over again, slower. And then she read it again, and again, and again. It didn't seem possible, but the more she read it, and the more she thought, the more it all made sense.

Numbness was mainly what she felt. Numbness because she was pulled in so many directions by so many emotions that all she could feel was numb. This just changed everything.

She was angry, of course. For years they'd been friends, spent time with each other, and never ever once had he said anything. He'd kept it from her, let her believe he was somebody different, when he wasn't. While he hadn't really lied, just withheld information, it was no better than a lie.

She was also shocked. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she had known him long before he had ever been assigned to protect before the outbreak of the war. Never would she have guessed who he truly was.

And she was happy. There were finally no more secrets (well almost none, she'd still like to know just what he was thinking). She knew who he was, and she knew what had happened to that little boy, little Anakin, who she'd felt so terrible about leaving behind.

_Anakin,_ she swallowed, her eyes stung. _Anakin, why? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything before? Why didn't you **trust** me? I would've kept your secrets if you asked me too…_

Really, what _had_ he been thinking? Was he afraid that she would think less of him if she knew who he was, where he came from? Had he thought she would be so angry with him for being dishonest that she wouldn't ever speak with him again?

It was hard for her to reconcile her memories of Anakin with what she knew of Vader. She had a hard time seeing that sweet, innocent, wonderful little boy be the same person as the enigmatic Vader. And yet it _did _fit when she thought hard about it.

Once they'd gone to Naboo and Vader had learned her real last name, he softened his attitude towards her. And after Geonosis, his old childhood crush on her seemed to have resurrected itself. Then there was that one time after their little drugged romp that he'd asked her if she was an angel…

Shaking her head to clear it, Padmé looked up and around for Sabé. She'd read the letter to her satisfaction, and now Sabé could examine it if she so chose. But Sabé wasn't in the chair she was supposed to be.

Padmé found her by the window-wall of her common room, standing with Artoo. Both of them stared out in the direction of the Jedi Temple. Curious, Padmé got up and walked over to join them.

"Sabé, what are you…looking…at…"

Numbness firmly shifted to horror, deep and absolute. Between the towering neighboring skyscrapers on the edge of the horizon she could see it. The Grand Jedi Temple was on fire.

A column of thick black smoke billowed up into the sky. It was lit from the sides by the hazy city lights. It was lit below from the glow of the flames.

She couldn't actually see any of the flames themselves. But the very fact that the Temple was on fire was shocking enough. Why was it burning?

"Sabé, what's going on?" Padmé asked. "Was there another Separatist attack?"

"I don't know," Sabé mumbled. "It's been burning like this for almost a half an hour. Why don't the firefighters come and put it out?"

"I don't know," Padmé swallowed. "Artoo, call Captain Typho and have him try and find out what's going on."

Artoo warbled an affirmative and rolled away.

Now alone, Padmé and Sabé continued to watch in horrified fascination as the smoke continued to rise. They did not speak; they had no words to say. But then something occurred to Padmé.

_Anakin could still be in there!_

Padmé raised a trembling hand and pressed it to the transparisteel window, a futile attempt to reach out to him, touch him. She tried vainly to press the idea from her mind, tried to think of the possibility that he had left, escaped. But it was no use. She bowed her head and began to cry.

_Anakin! Oh Anakin…_

* * *

Bail relaxed in his ruby red hot-rod speeder. He'd had dinner with Mon Mothma at her favorite restaurant and they'd stayed for hours after their meal, bouncing ideas off each other. And now it was time to head back to his Coruscanti apartment and try to get some sleep.

But as he cleared some tall buildings, he was met with a shocking sight. The Grand Jedi Temple had a terrible column of black smoke rising from it. There were no firefighters with their specially equipped speeders in sight.

Deeply concerned, he decided to investigate. He shifted his course from home to the Temple. In ten minutes, he'd found his way to a side entrance halfway up the towering main body of the structure. There was a walkway and landing pad for speeders and small air taxis there, and he landed on it.

"What's going on here?" Bail demanded as he strode towards a group of clone soldiers who where loitering there.

"There's been a rebellion sir." One of the clones informed him. "Don't worry, the situation is under control." He assured the Alderaanian Senator, but then he cocked and raised his rifle, as did his companions. "I'm sorry sir; it's time for you to leave."

Bail stared at them in shock, before he gathered his wits together. "And so it is." He agreed and turned to leave. Something was wrong here, but it wasn't worth getting shot to find out now. He'd learn of it later, he was sure.

"Get him!" Another clone trooper shouted and Bail spun around in alarm.

A young boy, a Jedi Padawan, perhaps ten years old, burst into view. He attacked the four clones that had sent Bail away and managed to kill them all in less then a minute with his blue lightsaber. But reinforcements were quickly on the scene and they opened fire on the child. The Padawan deflected a few shots, but then his defenses failed and he crumpled to the floor.

"No!" Bail cried in horror.

The troopers jogged over, ready to finish the prone child off with a shot to the head–

Suddenly they were gone. It was like there was an invisible broom had swept them all to one side and off the walkway, down into the depths of Coruscant's lower levels. Only he and the injured Padawan were left.

Bail blinked, stupefied. _What…just happened here?_

"Senator Organa?"

The Senator in question snapped his head up to see a man striding towards him from the Temple. He wasn't a clone trooper; he was a Jedi, dressed in dark robes. In his shock, it took him a moment to recognize Vader, a Jedi he'd seen just yesterday evening.

"What are you doing here?" Vader asked.

"I…I saw the smoke and…I came to see what was going on." Bail stammered, stunned at the display of power. _Did he knock all those troopers away all by himself?_

Vader stared blankly at him for a moment, then turned to stare at the fallen child who was gasping and groaning in pain. "Senator, do you have a private doctor in your employ?" He asked slowly.

"Well-well yes," Bail blinked. "Why?"

The tall Jedi knelt beside the Padawan and carefully scooped him up. He carried him over to Bail's speeder and gently deposited him in the passenger seat. "Please take him," Vader pleaded. "But be careful. If you are caught with him, they'll probably kill you too."

"What is going on?" Bail asked worriedly as he climbed back into the driver's seat.

"The Chancellor has no more need of us." Vader replied. "We are a threat, and now we are being exterminated."

"What?" Bail gasped. "What do you–"

"I have to go," Vader said abruptly and ran off, back into the Temple.

Bail stared after himself in both shock and deep respect, then he shook himself and took off. The longer he stayed there, staring like an idiot, the greater the chance was that more clone troops would appear and fire on him for saving the Jedi child. And the boy needed a doctor, quickly.

As soon as he felt he was safely away from the Temple, he pulled out his comm-link and made a call. "Captain Antilles?"

"_Yes, sir?"_ The captain of his private ship replied after a moment.

"Prepare the _Tantive IV_ for take-off immediately. And summon Doctor Brinks there." Bail ordered. "I should be there in…fourteen minutes."

"_Yes sir, it will be done."_ Captain Antilles assured him and cut the connection to carry out his orders.

The Senator replaced his comm-link and stomped on his accelerator, desperate to get to his ship faster. But when he glanced over at his passenger, a new worry presented itself. The young Jedi looked awful.

The boy was deathly pale, his brown eyes glassy with shock and pain as he stared dazedly back at Bail. Blood oozed out of his scorched blaster burns, one on his shoulder, one in his thigh, one on his side. Bail began to wonder if the child would last the fourteen minutes it would take to get him to safety.

"Hey, stay awake," Bail warned. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"Zett," the Padawan wheezed after a long minute, his young voice thin and weak with pain. "My name…is Zett…Jukassa…"

* * *

Yoda's two Wookiee allies carried him out of the jungle in the deep dark of night. Clearings as large as the one they brought him to were rare on Kashyyyk, a world of dense jungle. Chewbacca carried him to the top of a small hill while Tarfful began digging through the lower brush. Camouflaged under large leaves and branches was something metallic.

When the greenery was cleared away, it was revealed to be a small spacecraft, little more than a modified escape pod of some kind. It was very small, much too small for an adult Wookiee to use it, but a very young, very small Wookiee might be able to fit inside. It was perfect for the tiny fugitive Jedi Master.

Master Yoda hopped down from Chewbacca's shoulder and stopped halfway to the craft. He turned and addressed his Wookiee allies and friends for what he sensed would probably be the last time. "Good-bye Tarfful. Good-bye Chewbacca. Miss you I will." He told them sadly.

Yoda then limped up the tiny ramp and took a seat in the equally tiny chair inside the escape pod. The ramp raised, sealing the pod, and then it blasted upward into Kashyyyk's night sky. Chewbacca and Tarfful howled farewells until Yoda was well out of sight.

"_(Do you think we'll ever see him again?)"_ Chewbacca wondered.

"_(It's possible,)" _Tarfful replied, "_(but I doubt it…)"_

* * *

Bail strode through the pure white confines of his personal ship, the Corellian-built _Tantive IV_, beside Captain Antilles. Doctor Brinks was still in the middle of working on the rescued Jedi child, Zett Jukassa, and had pressed a few of Bail's aides into playing temporary medical assistants. The doctor had only given the boy a fifty-fifty chance of making it.

"Hopefully we'll be able to intercept a few Jedi before they walk into this catastrophe." Bail muttered to his captain as they walked towards the bridge.

Captain Antilles nodded as they entered the small bridge. "Where to, Senator?"

"Set a course for the Kashyyyk System," Bail decided after a moment's thought. "Master Yoda was deployed there. Perhaps he will have some answers for us…"

* * *

Anakin slumped against the handrail of the lift car as it headed for the top. He was so tired it was ridiculous. There were still a few Jedi lingering here, alive; he could sense them. But it was unlikely that he could help them. It was time to go.

He glanced up, caught sight of the lift number, and moaned in despair. _Damn it! This is the wrong lift! It's not taking me to the hanger, it's taking me to the top of the center spire, the Council chambers!_ He'd been so tired, he'd stumbled into the wrong lift!

_No! _He moaned. _Now it's going to be even harder to get out of here! Agh!_

The lift stopped and opened out onto the highest floor of the Jedi Temple with a cheerful ping. Anakin grumbled darkly and was about to jab a lower floor that give him access to the _right lift_ when he paused. He sensed something…something in the Council chamber.

Deciding to risk wasting a few precious seconds, he stepped out of the lift to investigate. The chamber was dark when he opened the door and stepped inside, though not as dark as it had been when he was knighted. And at first glance, the room was empty.

But the instant he took a step inside, he found his first glance to be incorrect. Several small children, Initiates, five to six years old at the most, came out from their hiding places behind the chairs, in the shadowy corners. There were at least ten, perhaps twelve of them.

"Master, there are too many of them, what do we do?" One little boy asked, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Anakin's eyes rapidly flickered over the tiny children and their wide eyes, hopeful that now that he was here, they would be saved. They were terrified; he didn't need to sense their fear to know that. Yet they remained model Jedi children. They didn't tackle him, cling to him. They stood closer to him than they normally would, yet none of them cried or screamed. They still spoke politely, as if they were only worried. Their deceptive calmness probably won't last much longer. Not with what they would soon have to endure.

"What do we do?" Anakin repeated stupidly, before he snapped out of his shocked daze. "We leave, that's what we do. Come with me."

He turned and marched from the room and, obedient as ever, the children followed him. They all crammed into the life and Anakin selected the lower floor he'd meant to moments earlier. And then they were on their way.

As they skulked through the nearly deserted Temple, dodging clone sweeper patrols, looking for anything they missed earlier, Anakin wondered just how the children had gotten up there, and why. It didn't seem like the best hiding place. The Council chambers were isolated at the highest point of the Temple, with only one way up or down. It was a place to be safe for a while if you could defend it, a better place to get trapped and die if you couldn't. They were barely more than babies though, they probably didn't think about that. Maybe they just hopped that the home of the greatest Masters would keep them safe somehow.

Fortunately for him, things went surprisingly smoothly. They never got stuck anywhere on the way, never got caught and had to fight them off. But the further they went, the worse it was for the children.

Dead Jedi were everywhere. Friends, teachers, Jedi they'd never met before, all lay there, full of blaster holes, staring with dead eyes. The poor kids would have nightmares about this for years. But it couldn't be helped. It was years of nightmares, or death for them.

And then, just yards away from the hanger doors, they hit a block. Two full squads of troopers guarded the entrance. Anakin stuffed himself and the children in a side hallway to stay out of their sight.

_Great! Just fantastic! Now what am I going to do?_ He wondered morosely. _I need to kill them all at once so they can't call for back-up…_

Normally it would be a simple matter of using the Force to get around this roadblock. He could distract them with a mind trick, make them think there was an emergency elsewhere, or he could kill them all very quickly. But that wasn't a real option here.

After a few hours of fighting, killing, running, hiding, he was all but spent. He had been drawing on the Force almost non-stop and now his skull felt like it was going to burst. And he was so tired that even without the headache it would be difficult to focus.

But then the decision on what to do was taken out of his hands. Someone attacked the troopers from a different hallway. If Anakin wanted to get out of here, he had to help, and he had to hurry.

"Stay here," he hissed to the children, and then he was off.

Dashing down the hall with all the speed his exhausted body could muster, he crashed into the clones from behind, desperately hacking away at them. Caught off guard by his sneak attack, they dropped like sand flies. In moments he and another Knight managed to cut all of them down.

Trembling with fatigue, he started to drag some of the bodies away from the doors so the children wouldn't have to step on corpses. Haze was starting to drift around the corners of his mind, but he couldn't rest yet. One little mistake now would get more than himself killed.

"It's you," someone muttered in dull surprise.

Anakin glanced up to see that the other Knight who had been attacking the clone troops was Ferus Olin. He looked about as bad as Anakin felt. He had a slight blaster burn on his cheek, but otherwise didn't seem to have been hit.

"Oh hi Ferus, you still here? And alive?" Anakin blinked wearily.

"Yeah," Ferus nodded.

"Good. Good, I'm going to need you." Anakin mumbled, mostly to himself. He jogged back down the hall to where he'd stashed the children. "Come on, we're almost out."

When he brought the children to the hanger door, Ferus had disappeared. Anakin frowned in fuzzy annoyance, but didn't waste his time thinking much about it. He opened the doors, looked around inside, and only then allowed the children to come inside with him.

The hanger was mostly untouched. All the staff was dead, but most of the vehicles had been left alone, which was a good thing. A very good thing. Anakin jogged over to a data terminal and began running a search on any hyper-capable shuttles.

"Where did all these younglings come from?" Ferus asked, reappearing from wherever he'd disappeared to.

"I found them hiding in the Council chamber." Anakin replied, not looking up from the terminal. _Aha! Two shuttles on the third level…_Theta_-class…whatever that is._

"What were they doing up there?" Ferus wondered.

"I don't know," Anakin sighed, turning around. _Oh hey! There's Darra! He must've gone to go get her…_

Darra wasn't in the best shape. She'd been hit in the leg and perhaps somewhere else, and she was forced to use Ferus as a Human crutch. Her face was tight and pale with pain.

"You two, take them" – Anakin gestured towards the clump of wide-eyed children – "up to the third level. There are some shuttles up there, _Theta_-class. Pick one and take it."

"Take the younglings?" Darra wheezed.

"Take the shuttle where?" Ferus frowned.

"Anywhere!" Anakin shrugged. "Anywhere away from here, away from the Republic, as far as you can go. Take the most twisting route you can calculate."

"What about you?" Ferus asked.

"I have decoy duty." Anakin explained. "I'll take a fighter, lead off whatever air support is around here, and then you leave five minutes after I do and go."

"No Master!" One of the children cried.

"Don't go!" A little girl begged.

"Stay with us!" Another pleaded.

"Don't you like us?" The youngest one, who Anakin suspected could be just four years old, whimpered.

"It's not that I don't like you," Anakin assured them before they could jump to any more crazy conclusions. "This is the only way that we'll be able to get out of here safely." _Well, it's not **safe**, but it's the only thing I can think of…_

"Will we ever see you again?" A boy asked worriedly.

"Sure," Anakin grinned. "Can't say when, but I'm sure we'll run into each other again." _Kids, I've known them for barely twenty minutes and already they're worried about never seeing me again….cute._

This seemed to reassure them enough for them, as a group, to wander over and attach themselves to Ferus and Darra.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Darra asked.

"Of course," Anakin snorted. "I wouldn't do it if I wasn't sure that I wanted to, or thought that I could do it. Now go find your shuttle. I'll be leaving in five minutes, you leave five minutes after I do."

"Right," Ferus nodded and helped Darra limp along with him. The children trailed along in their wake.

Anakin sighed and jogged off to check on the green Eta-2 he'd left his gear in. It thankfully looked untouched and he grinned slightly in relief. And his grin widened when he spied a familiar Astromech waiting for him.

"Hey Petey!" He greeted softly.

The green Astromech warbled in delight upon seeing him.

"Yeah, it's bee a long time." He sighed. "But hey, it seems that I've got a starfighter that matches you now," he smirked, pointing to the green starfighter.

Petey let out a sound that brought to mind laughter.

"Well hop in and start her up. We've got less than five minutes." Anakin stated with a hint of forced cheerfulness.

The R4 unit cheerily agreed and began to lock itself into the Astromech socket in the right wing.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Anakin pulled himself into the cockpit, strapped in, hooked in his headset, and ran through the start up procedure. A quick glance down confirmed that his stuff was still safe and sound, tucked under the chair. A few minutes later, everything was green and the engines were hot.

"Okay Petey, let's go!" Anakin mumbled, keying in his code to open the hanger gate.

RIGHT! Petey whistled.

Wrapping his hands around the joystick, Anakin nudged the Eta-2 up off its landing pad and towards the opening hanger exit. He could instantly tell the difference in the handling of this fighter compared to his old one that he'd lost, but there was no time to fix this one. He'd just have to deal with it.

Darting out of the hanger into the night sky, he almost flew right into the billowing smoke that rose from the Archives as he circled over the Temple. He strained his tired eyes, searching for whatever was waiting to stop him. He didn't have to wait long.

Four gunships lifted off from the roofs of nearby buildings to pursue him. Anakin grimaced as he settled in for some crazy flying. It was time to play follow-the-leader liberally mixed with a game of chicken.

Raising his shields to full power, he peeled away from circling the Temple and lurched away over the city. He carefully made a show of flying slowly and clumsily, drawing his pursuers in. And then when his shields began to take a little too much damage, he got serious.

He poured on the speed and swooped down to a lower, busier altitude. They all followed him, just as he hoped they would. And then he doubled back on them, laser cannons blasting.

One gunship went down in flames, the other three got angry. Anakin cheerfully yelled some disparaging things about their source material into his headset at them and then shifted back to the follow-the-leader phase. Two more gunships decided to join the chase.

_Ah, the more, the merrier!_ Anakin snorted sarcastically as he fly even lower, weaving in and out of speeder traffic and skyscrapers. _Catch me if you can slowpokes!_

In the end, Anakin managed to fry six gunships and severely damaged three others. Hopefully it was enough for the attacking clones to miss the _Theta_-class shuttle lifting off. But he couldn't stay any longer or he would lose his shields for good and get blasted out of the sky.

Diving down insanely low, so that at times he was skimming mere feet over street surfaces, he went with a flying style that reminded him of his old pod-racing days. He boosted the speed to dangerous levels for the risky flying he was doing. And it was too risky for the gunships that were still chasing him. They peeled off and left him alone…for the time being, anyway.

Clenching his teeth, he went into a steep climb and rocketed out of the atmosphere. Thankfully there were no Star Destroyers or fighter patrols in the area. But it probably wouldn't be that way for long, so he wasted no time in finding a booster ring that would fit his starfighter.

As he locked in some hyperspace coordinates, an ache began to form in his chest that had nothing to do with how tired and banged up he was. _Padmé… I'm so sorry… I'm not even going to get to say good-bye to you…_

And then he was gone.


	64. 63: From the Ashes

**Note: **Amazing! Up to four hundred reviews already! Thank you all readers and even lurkers (my hit count is rather impressive too!)! Now, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 63  
**_From the Ashes_

Obi-Wan cursed the long Utapaun day. He'd arrived on the planet in the morning and now it was late afternoon. But it felt to him like it had been a full Standard day and night already.

After his unexpected fall, he'd hidden and tried to figure out just what was going on. His little re-breather device helped enormously as it allowed him to stay underwater ten times longer than normal. However that still wasn't forever, so he'd swum into some caverns at the water level and hid out in the shadows.

Small hovering search droids, Republic equipment, not Separatist, combed the depths. Still unsure of why he'd been blown off the side of the cliff, he stayed out of sight of the things, even sometimes mind-tricking huge aquatic monsters into attacking the things if they came too close. And when he touched on the Force to perform the tricks, he sensed something…wrong.

The Force still felt chaotic, but now there was a rawness to it. The veil of the Dark Side had spread, making things hazy. The Light seemed to have weakened. And he didn't have a clue as to why.

Deeply concerned, Obi-Wan slowly and cautiously began to climb his way back up from the depths of the sinkhole. At times he came dangerously close to being spotted, but the Force was still with him and he evaded any clone attention. As soon as he climbed high enough to make it into the honeycomb of tunnels and caverns that connected to the city that hugged the insides of the sinkhole, he slunk into them, skulking around in the shadows to get where he wanted to go.

When he reached the main level of the city, he stealthily crept closer to a group of clone troopers. One of them was Cody. They all had their armor on so they looked completely identical, but through the Force, Obi-Wan could sense the slightest difference in signature that he recognized as belonging to his old commander.

"Did you find Kenobi?" Cody asked.

"Sir, no one could've survived that fall." Another trooper replied.

Cody seemed to accept this answer readily. "Start loading your men on the ships!" Cody barked. "Move it!"

If there had ever been in doubt in his mind that his troops had turned on him, it was now erased from Obi-Wan's mind. Cody hadn't called him _General Kenobi_, he'd just called him _Kenobi_. He no longer was considered a superior, he was an enemy.

_Well this is just **wonderful**!_ Obi-Wan sighed as he slipped away. _Now what do I do?_

With the clones against him he had to be very careful not to be seen. There was no way he could call Geenine back with his starfighter so that he could fly away and find help. And the Utapauns couldn't help him, the clones wouldn't let them. So what could he do?

_Hmm…oh wait a minute!_ He perked up a bit as he remembered something. Stealthily, he darted down a tunnel to retrace the path of his chase of General Grievous…

* * *

Obi-Wan carefully crept out of the shadows of the tunnel and onto the small landing pad in the small sinkhole where he'd fought and killed Grievous. The charred corpse had been removed, but the starfighter he'd been bashed into was still there. Looking around to see if he was being watched, he quickly hopped up and inside the vehicle. 

It was a boxy, rectangular design, very different from what he was used to. There was no Astromech to assist him so he would have to fly all by himself. With a sigh, he started the ship up and took off, rising through the sinkhole to then rocket out of the atmosphere.

Fortunately for him, none of the Republic ships had lifted off yet so no one spied him leaving. Aiming for the edge of the system, he slowly accelerated, hoping to avoid notice while he thought about where he was supposed to go now. He found the controls for the comm and began to call for someone, anyone who could help him.

"Emergency code 9-13, I have no contact on any frequency." Obi-Wan frowned as he flipped a few switches.

A holo-projector crackled to life in the middle of his steering yoke and a fuzzy image began to take shape. "_M-st-r Ke--bi."_

"Repeat." Obi-Wan requested.

"_Master Kenobi."_ The hologram repeated, clearing up a bit.

"Senator Organa," Obi-Wan blinked in recognition. "My clone troops turned on me, I need help."

"_We have just rescued Master Yoda. It appears that this has happened everywhere."_ Bail in formed him. "_We are sending you our coordinates."_

Obi-Wan nodded and locked the transmitted coordinates into his NavComputer and set off to meet with the Senator of Alderaan.

* * *

Anakin stared blankly out of his cockpit canopy at the swirling blue mists of hyperspace. After making a micro-jump that took him just a few light-years outside of the Coruscant System, he'd set a course for Dantooine, just to go someplace away. The purple world wasn't an official member of the Republic and no battles had been fought there so there was no reason for any Star Destroyers to be in the area. It was as good of a place to go as any. 

Safely in hyperspace, he had nothing to immediately worry about. It would be hours before he arrived at his destination. And no one knew where he was or where he was going.

Now he was really starting to feel how tired he was. Everything was sore, his head throbbed, and his eyes ached. He had no idea how he was still conscious after everything, but he was.

Obi-Wan was okay too. Or, at least he wasn't dead. The bond remained intact. But the distance was so great that he couldn't tell much else.

Padmé was probably okay too. He couldn't see Sidious cracking down on the Senators right after wiping out the Jedi. It would be a while before things were stable enough for Sidious to begin whittling down the Senate.

_So long as she stays quiet and lays low, Sidious should ignore her._ Anakin sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his left hand. _Padmé's smart, she'll be okay…_

He felt his chest constrict as he realized he'd probably never get to see her again. If he went to her, especially if he went to her on Coruscant, Sidious would know, and she would be in danger. It was safest for everyone if he stayed away.

And that meant that he'd never get the chance to meet his child. He would never know his son or his daughter. And he or she would never know him.

_The baby will be just like me. A child with no father. …Force this isn't fair!_

* * *

Obi-Wan was very glad that Bail Organa owned such a large ship. The _Tantive IV_ was just large enough for it to have a small hanger bay where he had landed the borrowed Separatist fighter. And now he was walking from there to the bridge with the Senator and Master Yoda. 

"How many other Jedi have managed to survive?" Obi-Wan asked worriedly.

"Heard from no one we have." Yoda sighed as he somehow managed to keep up with them in spite of his tiny aged legs.

"I saw thousands of troops attack the Jedi Temple. That's why I went looking for Yoda." Bail explained.

"Have we had any contact from the Temple?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Received a coded retreat message we have." Yoda replied.

"It requests all Jedi return to the Temple." Bail added. "It says the war is over."

"Well, then we must go back." Obi-Wan decided. "If there are any stragglers, they will fall into the trap and be killed."

"Hmm, suggest dismantling the coded signal, do you?" Yoda mused thoughtfully.

"Yes Master." Obi-Wan nodded. "There is too much at stake."

"I agree." Yoda replied. "And a little more knowledge might light our way."

"Do we know anything about what happened?" Obi-Wan wondered.

"Know only what the young one could tell us, we do." Yoda sighed.

"The young one?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"A young Jedi Padawan I managed to pick up on my short visit to the Temple." Bail elaborated. "He's been shot to pieces, but he's still alive. My doctor is still working on him."

"He was shot?" Obi-Wan inhaled sharply. "How young is he?"

"Ten, I think." Bail shrugged. "The troopers were killing all the Jedi, they claimed that they were putting down a rebellion."

"A rebellion?" Obi-Wan sputtered. "What rebellion?"

"I don't know," Bail shook his head helplessly.

"Find out we shall," Yoda declared, "when Coruscant we reach…"

* * *

Sabé splashed water over her face in an attempt to refresh herself. It didn't help very much. The image of the Jedi Temple burning still seemed to be etched in the back of her eyes. In fact the Temple could still be burning, even though it was morning now. The last time she dared look out the window at it she could still see a hazy column of gray-black smoke hovering above the mighty building. 

Biting her lip, she left the refresher for the kitchen. She started to brew up a pot of caf. After her sleepless night, she was going to need it.

Once Padmé had started to cry, she hadn't held out much longer. Padmé was always very strong, Sabé could probably count all the times she'd seen her cry on one hand. So when she did cry, it was a big deal.

They cried for hours together at the window. What was the galaxy coming to when the Jedi Temple caught fire and no one put it out? It hadn't helped that Captain Typho hadn't been able to find them any answers as to what was going on.

Somehow she'd managed to get Padmé to bed, but she didn't know if her friend ever fell asleep. Sabé hadn't; she'd stayed up all night, watching in mute horror as the smoke kept rising. Artoo had been her only company then. The little droid would moan occasionally, as if sadly reminiscing about his time among the Jedi.

Just as she switched on the caf pot, the apartment comm began to chime for attention. Wondering just who would be calling so early, Sabé rushed to answer it before it disturbed Padmé. Her Lady desperately needed her rest in her condition.

Sabé flipped on the comm, setting it to voice only. After last night, even as a tiny hologram, she probably looked awful. "Senator Amidala's residence, how may I assist you?"

"_This is the Chancellor's office,"_ a voice, probably a secretary, said. "_Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has called a special session of Congress and all Senators are to attend."_

"I shall inform the Senator." Sabé promised.

"_The Chancellor shall be expecting her."_ The Secretary replied and then hung up.

She sighed and returned to the kitchen to watch the caf brew. There was only a thin layer of dark liquid in the pot, and only a few dribbles dripping down every now and then. The machine gurgled as water was forced through the caf grounds to flavor it.

_I suppose this special session is going to be about what happened at the Temple last night,_ Sabé guessed while she waited for her drink to be ready. _I can't imagine why they would let the Temple just burn. It doesn't make any sense…_

Numbly she poured herself a steaming cup of caf as soon as it was ready and wandered over to Padmé's room. Padmé looked like she was asleep, though it was entirely possible that she wasn't. Sabé sipped quietly at her drink and considered how best to tell her the news.

"Who was on the comm Sabé?" Padmé asked hoarsely.

_So she is awake._ "It was a message from the Chancellor's office. Palpatine has called for a special session of Congress." Sabé replied.

"Oh," Padmé mumbled softly before stiffly sitting up. "Pick out a nice dark dress for me Sabé, I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay," Sabé agreed and set down her cup to dig through the closet.

_It's always dark dresses these days. People probably think she just likes dark colors. They don't realize that she's in mourning for the death of peace. And now…perhaps she mourns the Jedi too…_

* * *

Hours later, the _Tantive IV_ dropped out of hyperspace over Coruscant. It was morning now on the side of the planet where the Senate met and where the Jedi Temple was located. So all of them felt like they'd been up all night. 

"We're receiving a message from the Chancellor's office sir." Captain Antilles announced.

"Send it through." Bail ordered.

"Yes sir." The captain nodded and switched on the comm screen.

A flat color image of Mas Amedda, the Chagrian Vice-Chair of the Senate, appeared. "Senator Organa, the Supreme Chancellor requests your presence at a special session of Congress." The blue alien informed them.

"I will be there." Bail promised.

"He'll be expecting you." Mas Amedda replied and the screen went dark again.

"It could be a trap." Bail muttered after a moment, slumping back in his chair.

"I don't think so." Obi-Wan disagreed. "The Chancellor will not be able to control the thousands of star systems without keeping the Senate intact."

"If a special session of Congress there is, easier for us to enter the Jedi Temple it will be." Yoda pointed out.

"Captain, take us to the private landing pad first so that we may let the Jedi off first and then take us to the Senate rotunda." Bail commanded. "We don't want to be late."

* * *

When Bail slipped into the Senate building, he was late enough that he missed the opening formalities. Instead of heading to his own Senate pod, he went to the Naboo pod, which was closer to the entrance he'd used. Senator Amidala and Representative Binks were there already, listening as the noisy applause died down.

"And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled." Palpatine declared from the central podium to another round of applause.

"What's happened?" Bail asked as he slipped into the open seat.

"The Chancellor has just been elaborating on a plot by the Jedi to overthrow the Senate." Senator Amidala explained quietly.

Bail swallowed a disbelieving snort. He knew there was no plot by the Jedi. There seemed to have been a plot _against_ the Jedi though.

In the central podium Bail could see the Supreme Chancellor. He was now covered in a dark red and black hooded robe and his features were concealed. Mas Amedda sat on one side of him, Sly Moore sat on the other.

"The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!" Palpatine declared, his voice strangely raspy. "The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you, my resolve has never been stronger!" He announced, again to more applause. "In order to ensure security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire!" He decided. "For a _safe_ and _secure_ society!"

Bail was stunned at the standing ovation this speech created. He was appalled at the celebration that the death of the Republic had sparked. He could find no words to accurately describe what he was seeing. But Senator Amidala did.

"So this is how liberty dies." She sighed sadly. "With thunderous applause."

* * *

As Yoda had predicted, getting into the Temple was easier with the special session of Congress. Most of the troops were now guarding the Senate rotunda, leaving only a few squads to guard the Temple's front gates. And they were dispatched easily enough.

The horrors that they found inside the Temple were much harder to deal with. The remains of dead Jedi of all ages were strewn everywhere, left to rot wherever they'd fallen. There were no corpses of clones, their comrades had removed them. But the Jedi were left there to decay like vermin, they suffered the deaths of traitors.

The Temple walls were pocked with black scorch marks from both blasters and lightsabers. The air was foul with the bitter scent of death, burnt flesh, and smoke. And it was eerily silent in a way the Temple had never been before, not even in the dead of night.

Obi-Wan knelt down beside a cluster of slain younglings who had all appeared to have fallen while there were running away. They were full of blaster burns, far more than was necessary to kill them. He could only hope that they hadn't suffered long before they died.

"Not even the younglings survived," Obi-Wan sighed.

"If any survivors there are, stay here they could not." Yoda pointed out. "Continue our search of the Temple we must."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan nodded, shaken.

They continued on, wandering through the Temple and surveying the damage. While they made their way to the communications room where the coded signal was coming from, they studied the dead, keeping their eyes peeled for anyone they knew. It was the single worst walk Obi-Wan had ever taken through the only place he'd ever felt at home.

Obi-Wan was deeply grateful that he didn't see anyone he knew particularly well among the dead. He didn't see any of the Council members who had stayed on Coruscant laying on the floor, nor did he see Anakin. But that didn't necessarily mean that they had survived.

When they reached the communications room in the heart of the Temple, Obi-Wan went to work altering the message. "I have recalibrated the code warning all surviving Jedi to stay away." He announced once he had finished.

"For the Clones to discover the recalibration, a long time it will take." Yoda muttered thoughtfully.

The tiny Master turned and started to hobble away. Obi-Wan followed but paused when he caught sight of the terminal that displayed the recordings of security holos. He had to look.

"Wait, Master." Obi-Wan swallowed. "There is something I must know."

"If into the security recordings you go, only pain you will find." Yoda warned.

"I must know the truth Master." Obi-Wan sighed. _I know I won't like what I see, but I must know what happened._

Obi-Wan walked over to the projector and flipped it on, rewinding the recordings to late the previous night. Three-dimensional images, recorded of people in motion flickered before his eyes. At first things appeared to be normal, but then the carnage began.

Troopers marched through, shooting every Jedi they came across. There was no hesitation, no mercy, all Jedi were killed instantly on sight. This wasn't putting down a rebellion, this was genocide.

Unable to watch anymore, Obi-Wan turned the projector off and turned away.

"Destroy this Sith I must." Yoda declared gravely.

"I am not to go with you?" Obi-Wan frowned worriedly.

"To fight Lord Sidious, strong enough you are not." Yoda replied.

Obi-Wan started to protest, but closed his mouth and thought hard about it. He'd seen Yoda fight before; he knew how capable the ancient Master was. If he accompanied Yoda to fight the Sith Lord, Yoda would have his attention divided two ways, he would have to worry about fighting and worry about defending Obi-Wan. So he would only really get in the small Master's way.

"So what am I to do?" Obi-Wan wondered.

"Search the city you must, for others who may have escaped." Yoda instructed. "If return I do not, leave you must."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan agreed reluctantly. "May the Force be with you, Master."

"And may the Force be with you." Yoda replied as he hobbled away.

Obi-Wan watched as Yoda limped from his sight before leaving himself on his own errand. _If anyone can defeat the Sith Lord, Master Yoda can. But if he can't…_

* * *

Padmé stared out her window at the still smoldering ruins of the Jedi Temple. While from a distance it looked fine, save for the smoke that still clung to it, she was now certain that the beautiful building was now destroyed, a charnel house of the Jedi Order. The Supreme Chancellor's – no, the Emperor's – speech had confirmed her worst fears. 

The Jedi were all slain. The Republic had fallen, not from without, but from within. Now there was only the Empire, a dictatorship led by a monster. Democracy was dead, a shadow used to blind the public to the ugly reality. Light had gone out of the universe, there was only Darkness now. There was no hope…

A speeder pulled up to her back entrance, the stairs that led nowhere. The cockpit canopy slid back and a familiar man leapt out and climbed her stairs. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had arrived.

"Obi-Wan!" She gasped.

"Good afternoon," Obi-Wan greeted. "I apologize for not calling in advance of my arrival."

"You're alive!" Padmé blurted out in joyful shock.

"Yes," Obi-Wan smiled weakly, "I am one of the fortunate ones."

"Oh, where are my manners," Padmé muttered, flustered. "Please, come sit down."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan murmured politely and took a seat on her couch.

"Can I get you anything?" Padmé asked. "Something to drink or–"

"No thank you, I'm fine." Obi-Wan assured her. "I probably won't be staying very long."

"Oh," Padmé said, carefully sitting down across from him.

"I must ask," Obi-Wan hesitantly began. "Have you had any contact with other Jedi recently?"

"No, not since yesterday morning." Padmé replied.

"So, you wouldn't know where he might've gone…" Obi-Wan mumbled to himself thoughtfully.

Though he didn't say who he was talking about, Padmé knew. "He's still alive?"

"Yes, I would have sensed his death, and he was not among those who fell in the Temple." Obi-Wan answered.

Relief swamped her, a wave of emotion so strong that it left her feeling lightheaded. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and bowed her head, her hands unconsciously found her swollen stomach. She was so overwhelmed by the knowledge that Anakin was alive, that all her thoughts and habits concerning her hidden pregnancy were swept away.

_He's alive. Praise the Gods. Anakin is alive…somewhere._

"He did leave me a letter," Padmé said when she was no longer dizzy with her relief. "I think he left you one as well. I'll go get it."

Padmé didn't wait for him to reply. She got up from the couch to retrieve the datapad that she'd used the previous night. It still held the data chip that Artoo had brought her. She carried it back to her common room and presented it to the Jedi Master.

Obi-Wan accepted the small device and switched it on. Padmé returned to her seat and settled down to watch the Jedi's reactions. He raised an eyebrow as the two solitary files on the chip came up on the screen, and quickly selected the one labeled for him.

She watched as his eyes began to rapidly flicker over the text of the message Anakin had left for him. Then he stopped and stared at something for a full minute. And then it looked like he started over. Padmé felt oddly pleased that Obi-Wan was suffering a similar reaction to what he was reading as she had.

It took him a long time to finish reading. And then he let the 'pad rest in his lap while he thought over what he had learned. Only when he turned the datapad off and set it on the caf table did she attempt to question him.

"So, was it a letter?" She asked.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied. "A most…interesting and informative letter."

"As was mine," Padmé nodded. "But I don't understand. In his letter, he claims that he trusts me, yet he hid everything from me under the flimsy excuse that he didn't want to bother me with his problems or burden me with his secrets." Her voice turned slightly bitter. "I would've kept his secrets if he asked."

"I think I understand." Obi-Wan said quietly. "He was so frightened and untrusting when I first met him that he would not tell me anything about himself. And there were even times when I would accidentally trigger something that upset him so badly that he would attack me. But those days are long past now."

"He would _attack_ you?" She sputtered in disbelief.

"Sometimes," he nodded, "though it was more of a violent knee-jerk reaction than a real attack. He would just push me away…enthusiastically…and into other, rather solid objects."

"Really?" Padmé mumbled. "I'd never picture him doing that to you. I wouldn't think him capable of it." _He was always such a sweet little boy… But then there **was** that one time in Varykino when he pinned me to the wall…_

"Well, you never saw him when I first did," Obi-Wan chuckled weakly. "He was something of a mess."

Padmé chewed at her lip. "I'll bet he was." _Poor Ani…_ "He was such a sweet little boy."

Obi-Wan nodded silently as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If only I could figure out where he's gone…"

"Wouldn't he head home?" Padmé frowned.

"No, I don't think he'd do that." Obi-Wan shook his head. "He's very adept at running, he wouldn't go directly to Tatooine. Doing so would risk leading Imperial forces there and could bring any friends and family he has contact with into danger."

"Oh," Padmé sighed. _That makes sense._

"He might go there at some point," Obi-Wan conceded. "I can't imagine that he'd stay very long though."

Padmé reached up and closed her hand around the Japor pendant. "What do you think I should do?" She swallowed.

"Go back to Naboo as soon as you can," he replied. "Lay low, or better yet, find a way to disappear. I don't see the Emperor going after any Senators right now, but if you continue to defy him, he _will_ find a way to silence you."

Padmé nodded stiffly. "That's what Anakin begged me to do yesterday." _And I brushed off his concerns like they were nothing… _

"Oh did he?" Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully. He glanced over at the wall chrono. "Well, I should be going," he sighed and stood up.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"To search around the Temple and see if I can find any Jedi who were able to slip free and survive." He replied.

"But, that's dangerous, isn't it?" Padmé frowned. "If any clone troopers catch you–"

"They won't catch me," Obi-Wan insisted. "Now I must be going."

Padmé sighed in defeat. "Please be careful."

"I will," Obi-Wan promised as he made his way back to his hovering speeder. But he paused before he climbed into the cockpit and turned back. "Anakin is the father, isn't he?" He asked softly.

Padmé looked away uncomfortably. She couldn't lie to Obi-Wan, yet she wasn't sure that she wanted to tell the truth either. But her tense silence was all the answer he needed.

"I see," Obi-Wan sighed wearily as he climbed into the speeder.

Then the cockpit hissed shut and the Jedi Master pulled away. Padmé stared after him and sighed deeply. Closing her eyes, she rubbed at her stomach and did her best not to worry. Unfortunately, she'd never been very good at that.

_I hope I didn't just get Anakin into even more trouble…_

* * *

Anakin gave a start as a warning chimed echoed through his cockpit. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he wrestled with confusion and disorientation, fumbling around for some switch to stop the beeping. Then he realized it was the alarm that warned him when he was close to his destination while hurtling through the blue sameness of hyperspace. 

Pulling back the hyperspace lever, the blue mists dissolved down into a sea of stars. Just ahead of him was the violet orb of Dantooine. There were no other ships in the system and no booster rings orbited the planet. He was alone here. For the moment anyway.

Yawning, Anakin gripped the control stick as the booster ring detached and dove down into the atmosphere. The view through the transparisteel of his cockpit slowly changed from black sprinkled with white, to purple. And then when he reached the same general area where the thrown together Jedi camp had been, he landed.

Somehow, he didn't know how exactly, he summoned the strength to tumble out of his cockpit and hit the purple grass. Then he crawled into the shadow cast by his Eta-2 and curled up into a ball. Before he allowed himself to pass out again, he managed to pull his thoughts together just long enough to do a few things.

"Petey, shut everything down for me." Anakin groaned. "And wake me up if anyone comes or anything bad happens."

The Astromech whistled his assent and then the soft whirring sounds of the fighter cooling off and shutting down drifted into his ears. Anakin sighed and shut his eyes. And then he drifted off…

_…Sleep… _

* * *

Obi-Wan scrubbed tiredly at his face as he hid in the shadows of some dreary alley, deep in the depths of Coruscant's infamous lower levels. He'd left his speeder many levels up in a public parking lot so that he could continue his search on foot. But despite that, he still had found no one, and now it was evening.

Drawing his hood further down to obscure his identity he slunk out of the alley and rejoined the thin flow of people that traversed the filthy depths. His tightly pulled cloak gave him perfect anonymity and some very subtle Force manipulation kept him from being noticed by any of the locals. It was unlikely that he'd run into any clone troopers here, they would be stretched far too thin if they tried to hunt Jedi all the way down here.

It was the perfect place for any surviving Jedi to hide. At least for now. Soon Palpatine's reach would extend here, and no Jedi would be safe. That was why he had to find them first.

With no specific destination in mind, Obi-Wan simply let his feet take him wherever they wanted to. Sometimes he would come to a place and stop, other times he would pause but just continue on. And the next little stop on his mysterious route seemed to be in a very seedy bar.

It was even darker inside than it was outside. The stale air was made even more foul by the bitter stench of unwashed bodies, spoiled food, and vomit. The thick haze of acrid smoke, the result of glittsticks, deathsticks, and cigs, didn't help any either. Shadowy figures of a variety of species huddled by the bar, crouched around tables, and slumped in booths. Some were obsessed with their drinks or drugs while others kept a paranoid eye out for any trouble that followed them.

Obi-Wan drifted to an unoccupied barstool in an especially dark corner and claimed it as his own. He ordered a shot of blue Corellian whiskey, Force knew he needed a little fiery jolt of alcohol to keep going right now, and he pretended to contemplate the colored liquid once it was handed to him by the Rodian behind the bar. What he was really doing was subtly scanning the bar and its patrons with the Force, searching for both friends and foes. This time he found a friend.

Tossing back his whiskey and leaving a credit chit underneath the overturned shot glass, he left his stool and headed for one of the booths in the back. He came to a booth that contained a single being, cloaked in a dark hooded robe. He sat down across from the other person and casually leaned forward so that he could speak without being eavesdropped upon.

"Hello Siri, come here often?" He asked curiously.

"Obi-Wan!" She flinched in surprise. "You're alive?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Surprised to see me?"

"Very," she admitted. "Obi-Wan, what's going on?"

"The Supreme Chancellor has declared himself an Emperor," he sighed wearily. "The Republic is no more."

"What happened to the Temple," she frowned. "Why was it attacked?"

"Palpatine was revealed to be a Sith Lord. He no longer required the assistance of the Jedi Order, so he ordered us exterminated." He explained. "He has justified his actions to the Senate by claiming that we were plotting to overthrow the Senate and take control of the Republic."

"And they believed all that poodoo?" She snorted derisively.

"Yes," he nodded sadly. "I saw a broadcast of Palpatine's speech when I passed by an electronics store. The entire Senate gave him a standing ovation when he was through."

"The spineless slime," she hissed bitterly. "After thousands of years of loyal service to them, they turn their backs on us on the word of a lying Sith bastard!"

"Palpatine has carefully cultivated the corruption in the Senate and consistently uses it to his own advantage." He shrugged. "And the few who stand in opposition of him don't dare speak up anymore. This is a dictatorship now. Any strong dissent could be labeled as treason."

Siri slumped in her seat for a few minutes, thinking things over. When she was done, she straightened up again. "So we're outlaws now?"

"Yes, we traitors who are to be shot on sight." Obi-Wan replied with a wry smile.

"And no allies left who would risk assisting us, I suppose?" She grumbled.

"I wouldn't say that," he corrected. "Senator Organa has already provided Master Yoda and I much needed assistance and Senator Amidala remains a strong supporter of ours. Though I know of no one else who would help us."

"Two is better than none, I suppose." She mused. "What are we to do now?"

"If Master Yoda fails in his bid to defeat the Emperor, we retreat and regroup beyond the Sith Lord's reach." He replied.

"You didn't go with Yoda?" She frowned.

"No, he wouldn't let me," he shook his head. "And I would only get in his way and distract him from what must done. I am here to seek out other survivors. Have you seen any others down here?"

"No," she sighed. "I haven't seen anyone."

"Were you injured?" He asked.

"Just a blaster graze to the side," she replied. "It's not serious, but it hurts a lot."

"Well then, let us go to Senator Organa and have his physician give you some treatment." Obi-Wan got up from the booth and discretely motioned for her to follow.

Siri followed him without a word. They left the foul smoky bar and slowly made their way upwards, back towards the speeder Obi-Wan had stashed. Obi-Wan was disappointed that he hadn't had any more success in finding other survivors. But at least he'd found Siri.

* * *

It was late evening as Master Yoda hobbled his way through the Senate building towards what had once been the Supreme Chancellor's office. The building was nearly deserted and it was very easy to make his way to where he needed to go. The only resistance he met was just after he stepped through the office door.

The Royal Guard, red robed offshoots of the old Senate Guard who dressed in blue, moved to point their force pikes at him. Yoda slammed the two of them back into the wall, leaving them unconscious and collapsed, with a wave of his hand. He straightened out his cloak and regarded the newly minted Emperor and Mas Amedda, who happened to be standing nearby.

"I hear a new Empire you have made for yourself Emperor." Yoda snorted. "Or, should I call you Darth Sidious?"

"Master Yoda," Darth Sidious croaked. "You survived."

"Surprised?" Yoda taunted.

"Your arrogance blinds you, Master Yoda." Sidious sneered. "Now you will experience the full power of the Dark Side."

The Sith then raised his gnarled hands, his fingers pointed towards the tiny Jedi Master, and fired the unnatural blue lightning that his Order was infamous for. Yoda was not entirely prepared for the blast, this lightning was far more powerful than Dooku's had been, and took the hit hard. He was blown off his feet and knocked into the far way. Stunned, he crumpled to the floor and laid still.

Darth Sidious cackled in triumph. It was a terrible sound, dry and pure evil. He advanced on the limp Jedi Master while Mas Amedda made a subtle retreat. The Chagrian was not eager to get caught between the two combatants.

"I have waited a long time for this moment," Sidious cackled, "my little green friend." He marched over to the Jedi, ignoring the twitch of Yoda's ear that signaled the little Master wasn't out cold. "At last the Jedi are no more!"

Yoda struggled back to his feet. "Not, if anything to say about it, I have!" He declared defiantly. "At an end your rule is. And not short enough it was."

Sidious snarled at the little troll, staring him down for a moment. Then abruptly the elderly Sith made an impressive flip for the doorway and escape. Yoda moved and blocked his way.

"If so powerful you are, why leave?" Yoda asked, lighting his tiny green lightsaber.

"You will not stop me!" Sidious declared, activating his own crimson-bladed weapon.

"Your faith in the Dark Side, misplaced it is." Yoda replied.

Darth Sidious hissed and slashed down at the diminutive Jedi. Yoda blocked the strike, and the many others that followed. The duel had begun…

It raged all over the office. They perched on the podium that rose up in the center of the Senate auditorium and hacked away at each other. And then a button got pushed that sent them slowly up into the cavernous auditorium.

The fight left the podium and moved to the Senate pods docked all around the walls of the chamber. Sidious hurled pod after pod at Yoda and the tiny Master was forced to repeatedly jump for his life. The rain of projectiles was so bad that he had to put his lightsaber away so that he could concentrate on jumping.

Tired of dodging the rain of Senate pods, Yoda caught one just a yard from his head. Gathering his focus, he began to spin the circular pod around, faster and faster. And then he hurled it back at Darth Sidious.

The Sith evaded the strike, but lost sight of the Jedi briefly. And then Yoda reappeared on the edge of Sidious' new Senate pod, his green saber drawn again. Sidious snarled and unleashed his lightning again.

The force of the blast knocked Yoda's lightsaber away, but the little Jedi was able to hold back the blast with his bare claws. Holding one bolt of energy in each hand, he slowly pressed it back at the Sith. Darth Sidious only poured on the power, pressing back. And then it was just too much to contain, and the lightning exploded.

Darth Sidious fell, but caught himself on the rail of a Senate pod. Yoda fell further, banging against the central podium before tumbling to the floor. As Yoda dragged himself back to his feet, he could hear Darth Sidious cackling as he struggled to pull himself back up into the Senate pod he hung from.

Tired and beaten, Yoda knew it was over. If he continued to fight, he would die, and for nothing. Gathering up his lightsaber, he scuttled away into a small maintenance grate that had been left open and made his escape…

* * *

Padmé sat in the back of her speeder while Captain Typho drove her to Bail Organa's apartment. She brought no Handmaidens with her, much to Sabé and Moteé's dismay, and Captain Typho would not go inside with her either. Her purpose for this trip was to meet with Bail and perhaps other Senators on secret delegation business, so none of her servants could accompany her.

She had just finished meeting with the lawyer and now she was set. Her will and all her other legal documents were in perfect order. If she had to leave Coruscant suddenly, she could do so without any trouble or worry.

It was getting late now, it was nearly dark. Her appointment with the lawyer had gone longer than she had anticipated. And that was mainly due to the letter Anakin had sent to her and the fall of the Jedi Temple. That changed a lot of things.

A fluttering sensation in he stomach drew her hand, and she indulged her son one last time before she had to put on her act, pretend she wasn't pregnant, that everything was as it had always been. _Hush little boy, be still. Mammy has to do some work now._

All too soon, and yet not soon enough, Captain Typho pulled up to Bail's apartment building. She stepped out carefully and waved to Typho before walking inside. Then it was only a short lift ride to Bail's floor.

When Padmé reached Bail's door, his aide and advisor, Sheltay Retrac, let her in. She was shown to a common room, decorated in the simple yet elegant Alderaanian style. Several other Senators were already there, including Mon Mothma, Giddean Danu, Bana Breemu, and Fang Zar. Bail Organa himself was conspicuously absent.

"Senator Amidala," Mon greeted.

"Where is Senator Organa?" Padmé asked, carefully taking an open seat on the couch near them.

"He received a call, from who he would not say, and he had to leave." Bana replied. "He should be back when his business is completed."

"Oh," Padmé nodded. "Have I missed anything?"

"No, we have not come to an agreement on anything yet." Giddean answered.

"I don't see what there is to agree on," Fang sighed in despair. "Palpatine has seized power, it is over now."

"No it isn't," Padmé frowned. "It isn't over until we die or lose hope. Things have simply changed; the situation has become more difficult, more dangerous."

"It is the situation that Bail and I feared might arise," Mon sighed. "Diplomacy has failed; the only option remaining is to put all our efforts into our organization. The time for leaving things unsaid, is over."

"We must be cautious." Bana warned. "The new Emperor is a dangerous man. He has proved that with his bold move against the Jedi."

"But something must be done." Giddean frowned. "Caution is needed yes, but not to the point where no action is taken."

"Of course, it is a fine line we must walk now." Mon agreed. "But first, let us start at the beginning. What we need to do is…"

* * *

The maintenance tunnel that lay beyond the grate was small, even for a tiny being like Yoda. It was designed for use by small droids only and was filled with pipes and wires. Pressing on, the ancient Jedi crawled on his hands and knees, his long wobbly ears brushing against things as he went.

He'd called Bail Organa earlier on his comm-link, while he'd paused near the Chancellor's office to retrieve his fallen cane. Hopefully the Alderaanian Senator would be ready to pick him up once Yoda found a way out of the tunnel system. His miniature comm-link chimed, the signal that Bail was in his speeder and ready.

"Hurry!" Yoda panted into the comm-link. "Careful timing we will need."

_"Activate your homing beacon when you're ready."_ Bail's slightly distorted voice replied.

Yoda put his comm-link back on his little belt and continued to crawl. For an eternity he wormed his way through the claustrophobic confines of the tunnel, sweltering in the heat and stale air. And then there was relief.

There was a junction, an open space where several tunnels met at an intersection. In the center, was a hatch that opened to the outside. Yoda wriggled free of the tunnel and flipped a switch on his comm-link, activating the homing beacon function.

He found the switch that opened the iris hatch and pressed it. The hatch opened, letting a blast of cool wind inside. And then Bail Organa in his bold red speeder pulled up underneath the opening, hovering in place.

The tiny Jedi dropped through the hole, landing easily in the passenger seat. He settled down, straightening his rumpled dusty cloak as Bail pulled away and rejoined the stream of traffic. Yoda tightly gripped his cane and hung his head.

"Into exile I must go." Master Yoda sighed despondently. "Failed I have."

* * *

_The suns were high and bright overhead, making the sand glow golden-white. Everything was still, unnaturally so. There was always wind on Tatooine, not that it ever cooled anything down, but it was always blowing, blowing the dust and sand everywhere. And it didn't feel quite hot enough or dry enough to be Tatooine either. But it _looked_ like Tatooine… _

_Anakin found himself sitting on a rock near a cliff, one side of Beggar's Canyon. He glanced down and noticed that not only was his right hand not mechanical, but it was smaller than it should be. He was smaller than he should be. And he was dressed in his old threadbare slave clothes. _

_But that was alright, because this was a dream. _

_"Hello Anakin," a man with a deep voice greeted. _

_Anakin turned his head and saw that he was not alone up here. "Hi Master Jinn, sir." _

_The dignified Jedi Master looked the same as Anakin had last seen him. Except he didn't look dusty. And that was weird, because everyone on Tatooine looked a little dusty after five minutes of walking around. _

_Then again, this _was_ a dream. _

_"How are you doing?" Master Jinn asked kindly. _

_"Okay I guess." Anakin sighed. Even his voice sounded young again, like he was once more nine years old. _

_"You guess? Don't you know how you feel?" Master Jinn asked curiously. _

_Anakin just shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. This was a nice dream. He didn't want to ruin it by talking about all the bad stuff that had happened… _

_"I'm sorry that I wasn't able to keep my promise to you." Master Jinn apologized, abruptly changing the subject. _

_"That's okay," Anakin replied. "You died. It's hard for a dead person to come and visit somebody." _

_"Yes it is," Master Jinn agreed with an amused chuckle. "Now tell me young one," the Jedi took a seat beside him on the rock, "what troubles you?" _

_"A lot of people died." Anakin mumbled after a moment. "And they shouldn't have. They didn't do anything wrong." _

_"I know," Master Jinn sighed. "I saw that. Do you blame yourself for that?" _

_"I tried to help them," Anakin swallowed, feeling like he wanted to cry. "I tried so _hard!_ But it wasn't enough…so many peopled died!" _

_"There was nothing more you could've done, Ani." Master Jinn consolingly gripped his tiny shoulder. "Palpatine planned too long and too well to have been thwarted. You did your best, and that is all anyone can reasonably ask of you. You did very well." _

_"No I didn't," Anakin muttered glumly, tracing patterns in the dust with his finger. _

_"Yes you did," Master Jinn insisted softly. "There were two paths put before you that night, one Dark and one Light. You chose Light, and considering where you've been and have far you've come, you did very well. You far exceeded any expectations I harbored and you put me to shame." _

Ghosts have expectations of living people? Man this dream is weird…_ "It's okay." Anakin shrugged uncomfortably, not sure what to say. _

_"You have done well, Anakin." Master Jinn insisted again. "And I am very proud of you." _

_"Thanks," Anakin blushed slightly at the unexpected praise. _

_"Now do not despair. As grim as things look, all is not lost. There are Jedi who still live, more survived because of the actions that you have taken." Master Jinn informed him. "It will not be easy, but you must be strong. There is still hope." _

_"Hope for what?" Anakin asked, craning his neck so he could look up at the tall Jedi, who still towered over him even though he was sitting down. _

_"Hope for the future, that the Darkness will be defeated and freedom restored to the galaxy." Master Jinn explained. "Hope that the Jedi Order will rise again, better than it was before." _

_"I don't know…" Anakin muttered doubtfully. "I don't think I'll live to see that." _

_"Oh I think you will," Master Jinn smiled. "And, if in some odd twist of fate that you don't, I know your children will." _

_Anakin blushed again at the mention of 'children.' "You really think so?" He asked skeptically. _

_"I do," Master Jinn nodded. "Now remember Ani, hope can be one of the strongest things in the universe. So long as you believe in it, it can give you the strength to pull through." _

_"Yes, sir." Anakin nodded, doing his best to commit this lesson to memory. _

_"Get ready now," Master Jinn smiled, "I think you're about to be woken up." _

_Anakin frowned "What–" _

* * *

"Master?" A tentative shake.

"Hmm?" Anakin grunted, refusing to open his eyes. _Lemme sleep some more damn it!_

"Master?" A stronger shake, from several different hands.

"What?" Anakin mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"Master? Please wake up." A child's voice begged.

Anakin slowly opened his eyes to see purple grass and three vaguely familiar children's faces. He blinked sleepily up at the children, not sure who they were at first. And then it clicked in his head.

"Told you you'd see me again," Anakin mumbled. He stiffly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "When did you get here?"

"A while ago," one said.

"And where are the others?" Anakin asked. He still felt stiff and sore, but now that he'd caught some sleep he felt much better than he had when he'd landed.

"Over there," the second one pointed towards a hill swathed in more purple grass. Anakin didn't see anything, but he sensed the others were on the far side of the hill, out of his line of sight.

"Master, where is the ceiling?" The third youngling asked worriedly.

Anakin stared at the child, a tiny blue-furred Squib child, in blank confusion. "What ceiling?"

"The ceiling," the little Squib pointed upwards. "Where is it? There has to be a ceiling."

Then he caught his mistake. Jedi children, especially ones this young, had never been outside of the Temple before. They'd always been kept indoors, seeing the outdoors only through windows and pictures. There had always been walls and ceilings in their lives. The wide open plains of Dantooine were beyond their experiences.

"We're outside," Anakin said slowly, "there is no ceiling here. There's only the sky up there."

"Oh," the Squib child flattened his pointed ears to his skull in alarm.

"It's alright," Anakin hastily assured the child, whose gender he couldn't immediately identify. He stood up and stretched out a bit to try and ease his stiff, sore body. "Let's go back to the others."

The three children obediently fell into step behind him as Anakin marched up and over the hill. Sure enough, at the low point between hills, he spied the others and their shuttle. The _Theta_-class shuttle's wings were folded upwards in the landing position. The rest of the children were huddled in the starship's shadow, looking around warily. He didn't see Darra or Ferus anywhere.

"Hi," Anakin grinned cheerfully as he started down the hill.

The remaining children, seven in all, making the total number ten, immediately looked up. Their little faces lit up in delight and they scrambled over to greet him. One of them was so excited that he went so far as to hug Anakin's leg.

Five of the children were Human, he noticed. The others were various other species. Besides the Squib, there was a Twi'lek, a Zabrak, a Whiphid, and a Togruta.

"Master, Master!" They cried.

Anakin felt rather overwhelmed at the attention.

"Hey, calm down a bit," Anakin gulped anxiously. "I said you'd see me again, didn't I?"

"Yes, Master," they all nodded, grinning in a mixture of happiness and relief.

"So where are Ferus and Darra?" Anakin asked.

"Knight Olin and Padawan Thel-Tannis are still on board the shuttle," one of the older children replied.

_Oh, so that's Darra's last name…_ "Thanks," Anakin turned and started to head for the shuttle's ramp.

"Master," the boy who had first begged for help in the Council chamber piped up. "What's you name?"

Anakin blinked, surprised. _Ferus and Darra didn't tell them? Or maybe the kiddies just didn't ask…_ "My name is Anakin Skywalker."

They had no more questions for him, thankfully, and Anakin was able to get aboard the shuttle. Ferus and Darra were in the pilot's compartment. And they were arguing.

"Are you insane?" Darra hissed, glaring at Ferus. "We can't go to the Outer Rim! Not with children! We need to find some place in the Core to take them."

"We can't take them to the Core," Ferus frowned. "It's not safe there, they'll be killed if they're found. The Outer Rim is–"

"The Outer Rim is full of pirates, Spice smugglers, and slavers," Darra interrupted. "That is no place for any child!"

"You can't afford to be that picky," Anakin interjected, startling them. "The Core is certain death and the Mid Rim is too risky. The Outer Rim is your only choice; most of it has never been part of the Republic. You," he pointed at Darra, "lose, two against one, we win."

"The Outer Rim is too dangerous!" Darra stubbornly insisted. "They'd die just as soon out there as they would if we'd stayed on Coruscant!"

_Okay, now I'm annoyed._ "Yes, there are some bad planets in the Outer Rim. I'm not saying you should go to someplace like Tatooine or Raxus Prime. You could stop there for a while, but I wouldn't suggest staying there." Anakin explained. "There are plenty of nice planets out there too. You just have to find them."

Darra glared at him, but made no reply. She looked tired and Anakin wondered if she'd managed to sleep at all. At least it looked like she'd been able to get her wounds bandaged.

"You won't be coming with us?" Ferus frowned.

"No," Anakin sighed. "I'll be lingering in the Mid Rim for a while, see if I can't help some others slip away."

"Why won't you stay?" Darra frowned, her sour expression shifting to something more sad.

"I just said why," Anakin replied. "Now here," he leaned over the NavComputer. "Let's see if I can help you find some good places to go…"

* * *

Obi-Wan sat in Bail Organa's meeting room aboard the _Tantive IV_ with Bail, Master Yoda, and Siri. It was night now, and most of Bail's guests, fellow Senators who had come to plan their next moves, had gone home. They were still on Coruscant, but would lift off soon.

They all had just heard of Yoda's failure in stopping Sidious. Bail already knew as he had been the one to retrieve Yoda from the Senate building. Obi-Wan was disappointed, but too tired to be much else. Siri was angry, but she controlled it and cast it away.

"What will you do know?" Senator Organa asked.

"Until the time is right, disappear we will." Master Yoda decided. "No more good can we do now."

"Where will we go?" Siri asked, frowning slightly.

"It exile I will be going," Master Yoda explained. "The location, a secret it will be, known only to the Council."

"And what of the injured Padawan Senator Organa has rescued?" Siri inquired.

"The doctor says he is too injured to move far. I will bring him back to my palace where he can receive the medical attention he needs." Senator Organa answered. "Once he is recovered, we shall release him."

"Thank you, Senator Organa," Master Yoda nodded gratefully. "Much appreciated your assistance is."

"When will the _Tantive IV_ be lifting off?" Obi-Wan asked.

"In just over an hour." Senator Organa replied.

"Adjourn this meeting we should." Master Yoda decided. "Speak later we shall." They all agreed and rose to leave. However Master Yoda wasn't quite done.

"Master Kenobi, wait a minute," Master Yoda asked politely. Obi-Wan sat back down in his chair and waited. After Senator Organa and Siri had left the meeting room, Master Yoda continued.

"What plans do you have?" The little green Jedi inquired.

"I was hoping to search for Anakin, see what has become of him." Obi-Wan replied. Seeing Master Yoda's curious gaze, he explained further. "That is what Vader told me his name was: Anakin Skywalker." He tilted his head questioningly. "Is there something else you have for me to do?"

"Yes, another task for you I have. But wait it can. Seek out young Skywalker you should, and help other Jedi that you find." Master Yoda ordered. "And when found your friend you have, and settled down you have, training I have for you."

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows raise up near his hairline. "Training?"

"An old friend has learned the path to immortality." Master Yoda explained, looking almost sly. "One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force. Your old Master…"

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan breathed in surprise. _Really?_

"How to commune with him, I will teach you." Master Yoda promised.

Obi-Wan was stunned and overjoyed at the news. _I can speak with Master Qui-Gon again? Maybe…maybe now I will learn what is was that he wanted me to do, what he wanted me to promise to do, in the reactor chamber under the palace on Naboo… _

* * *

Padmé stood at the edge of Bail's private landing pad where the _Tantive IV_ crouched, waiting to take off. Sabé and Captain Typho were here with her. They'd come to pick her up and return her to her apartment. But she had one more thing she wanted to do.

While she'd sat in Bail's apartment, listening to Mon Mothma and the others make plans, she'd been doing some personal planning of her own. With the Jedi Order ruined and the Republic destroyed, warped in the Empire, her galaxy had changed irrevocably. And that forced her to reevaluate her previous plans.

When the other Senators had dispersed for the night, Padmé remained and thought more. Even when Sabé and Typho came, she stayed lost in thought. Now she waited for a last minute meeting with Bail before he departed to help give the Jedi under his care the lifts they needed off Coruscant.

Finally he appeared and trotted over to her. "Senator Amidala, what can I do for you?" Bail asked curiously.

"I have been doing a lot of thinking, and I have come to some conclusions." Padmé began. "While I would like nothing more than to put all my energies at you and your allies disposal, I find I have some other things to attend to that require all my attention."

Her hands drifted down to her stomach, pointedly hinting at her condition. Bail noticed, but did not appear all that surprised. He'd probably suspected it for a while, yet he respected her privacy and did not ask her about it.

"I understand," Bail replied.

"I will help you when I can, but now I need your help." Padmé paused briefly to order her thoughts. "I know I have made the Emperor my enemy. Now that the Senate is truly dead, I no longer have any real influence. Staying and continuing to speak my opinions will only get me killed and cause my family suffering. So I find there is only one real option left to me, a radical solution to my problems."

"Padmé Amidala Naberrie, Senator of Naboo must die." She declared, her eyes locking firmly with Bail's. "And I need your help to do it."


	65. E: A Fragile Hope

**Epilogue  
**_A Fragile Hope_

Anakin casually strolled down the dusty streets of Langrunn III, a world just inside the Mid Rim. It was little more than a large mining colony with the only cities and ports located near the active mines. This world was far from any of the old fronts of the Clone Wars, so there was no risk of running into Republic – no, Imperial – troops.

It had been just under a week since the Temple had fallen. Just under a week since the galaxy had fallen into shadow. And now everything was different.

He had shed his Jedi robes in favor of ordinary civilian clothes. He'd gone with an outfit that made him look like a career spacer, perhaps a pirate with his scarred face. It consisted of a dark gray leather jacket with a hidden inside pocket that he used to stash his lightsaber, a slightly off-white shirt, dull black pants, beat up brown boots and a new leather glove. He also had his banged up old backpack slung over his shoulder. Added to the fact that he hadn't shaved since fleeing Coruscant, he looked very different than he had before.

_How does Obi-Wan stand it?_ He wondered, rubbing at his fuzzy chin. _This itches!_

Obi-Wan was still alive, he knew that much. But where his former Master was or what he was doing, Anakin had no idea. He had briefly considered seeking him out, but nixed the idea, feeling that he ran too much of a risk in getting caught if he tried it.

If he were to actively search for Obi-Wan, he'd have to use the Force a lot. And that could catch the Emperor's attention. That was something he didn't dare do, even all the way out here at the edge of the Mid Rim. The less he needed to use the Force, the better.

Anakin had cut loose his Eta-2 one planet ago. It was too distinctive, something that made him look like a Jedi. So he'd sent Petey off on his own after topping off the gas tank. The droid would take a winding route with the goal being Tatooine and the Lars moisture farm. He'd left a message for his mother recorded inside the R4 unit. His mother would store his ship and droid for him and she could sell off the booster ring as scrap. The next time Anakin intended to go home, he'd put an internal hyperdrive into the thing and be free of booster rings forever.

As he passed a newsstand, Anakin spied piles of different News-faxes and wondered. Aside from keeping an ear out for troop movements, he hadn't really paid any attention to the news. But now seemed to be a good time to catch up. Or, at least catch up as much as he could. With how vast the galaxy was, news from Coruscant could take days, even weeks to get out here.

Wandering over to the stand, he bought the most credible looking paper, tucked it under his arm, and walked away. He didn't immediately read it, he first looked for a place to study it in peace. He found that place a few blocks away in a low brick wall that was shaded by the local version of a tree.

He settled down on the little wall and pulled out the paper. After opening it and shaking it out, his eyes were drawn to the headline on the front page. It was printed in bold letter, all capitalized, with several exclamation points for good measure.

**_VICTORY OVER THE CONFEDERACY!_**

_ULTIMATE VICTORY has been achieved by our brave Imperial troops! Clone intelligence units tracked the renegade Confederate Ruling Council to the Outer Rim system of Mustafar. A fleet of the Empire's best Star Destroyer's converged on the Separatist's lair within hours._

_Several times the Separatists were given the chance to surrender. Every time they refused. And so the fleet was left no choice. The Separatist hideout was then obliterated under the weight of the fleet's orbital bombardment…_

Anakin wrinkled his nose in disgust. _That sounds like serious overkill. And I bet the Separatists weren't given any chance to surrender, they were slaughtered just like the Jedi…_

He skimmed the rest of the paper. Most of the other articles were boring, some where so bad he skipped them entirely. The stories that dealt with the Imperial military he paid close attention to. But near the back of the paper, on one of the last pages…

**_SENATOR KILLED_**

_JUST days after the Jedi Order was revealed to be traitorous, some of the remaining members have claimed yet another victim. An Imperial public servant, Imperial Senator Padmé Amidala was killed as she returned to her home planet of Naboo. What little evidence there is, points directly at the disgraced Jedi Order._

_Senator Amidala left Coruscant mere days after the Galactic Republic was reconstituted into the Galactic Empire to travel to Naboo. She was to meet with her planetary leader, the recently appointed Queen Apailana, to discuss the change in government of the galaxy. However she failed to arrive safely._

_A subsequent search of nearby systems revealed that her personal ship was knocked out of hyperspace just short of the Naboo system. It was then mauled by Jedi forces and completely obliterated. There was barely enough debris left to make a positive identification._

_Also killed in the crash were two of Senator Amidala's trusted and loyal servants. Her aide, Sabé Maybine, and her chief of security, Captain Eric Typho, both natives of Naboo, perished heroically by their Lady's side. Two other of the Senator's servants, Moteé Verin and Ellé Danna, narrowly escaped death by virtue of being granted leave shortly before the Senator departed for home._

_An elaborate funeral is being planned on Naboo by Queen Apailana and the Gungan leader Boss Nass to honor the fallen Senator, her servants, and her family…_

There was a little more to it, but Anakin couldn't comprehend it. He couldn't really see it either. He was too blinded by his tears.

_No! Padmé, no! She can't…she can't be…be dead! And Sabé and Typho! …And the baby! _

An invisible hand slowly crushed his chest as his anguish threatened to strangle him. This knowledge was terrible enough by itself, but coming so hard on the heels of the Temple's fall made it all the more devastating. And then the paper had the audacity to put the blame on the _Jedi_!

_Palpatine…Darth Sidious…you monster!_

He knew the Jedi would never do such a thing. But the Emperor would. He had every reason to kill Padmé.

She was a formidable opponent, politically. She had done her best to thwart him in the Senate on a wide variety of issues, including the Military Creation Act. And he already suspected her of plotting against him. So why not kill her?

Fury rose in him, directed at the Emperor, but it was quickly swamped by a sense of crushing despair. What would he do now without his dreams of his Angel, and of his unborn offspring, to sustain him? What hope was there for his future now?

Words of encouragement he'd spoken mere days before now left a bitter taste in his mouth…

* * *

"Master Skywalker, what will happen to us?" One of the children, a little Human girl, asked. 

Anakin had left the shuttle after giving Ferus and Darra a list of possible destinations. It was up to them to decide where they wanted to go. Now he was back outside, hoping to distract the children before it was time for them to part ways again.

"Knight Olin and Padawan Thel-Tannis will try and find someplace safe where you can stay." Anakin replied.

"You won't be coming?" The little blue Squib whimpered.

"No, I still have a few things left to do here in the Mid Rim," Anakin sighed. "I'd very much like to go with you though." _Really I would._

"Master Skywalker," the little Zabrak boy piped up. "Would…would you take me as your Padawan?"

Anakin couldn't help but stare at the kid. Never in a billion years would he have expected to have any Jedi kid would ask him that. He was briefly left speechless.

The little Zabrak just stood in front of him, waiting for an answer. For a five year old, he looked dead serious. Though his 'dead serious' expression was slightly ruined by his soft childish features and little horn nubs where his distinctive Zabrak horns would grow in around puberty.

"No," Anakin managed to force out at last. _I can't take a **Padawan**!_

"Why not?" The Zabrak asked miserably.

"Don't be in such a hurry to grow up," Anakin cautioned, recovering his wits. "And besides," he leaned in to whisper 'conspiratorially' to the kid, "I don't think I'm old enough to be teaching anyone anyway. Master Kenobi always complains I act more like a three year old than a twenty-two year old."

"Oh," the kid mumbled. He still looked a bit down, though Anakin knew he'd at least managed to take most of the sting out of the rejection.

"Master Skywalker?" The Twi'lek, a chalk-white girl, squeaked nervously.

"Yes?" Anakin blinked. _Please don't ask me to be your Master too…_

"Will things ever get back to the way they used to be?" She asked, anxiously fiddling with her right _lekku_.

_Trust kids to ask simple, but hard questions…_ Anakin didn't immediately reply. He knew he had to be very careful in answering this inquiry.

"No," he said, "things will never be the same again. But that doesn't mean it will always be bad. The galaxy is always changing around us."

"Is there any hope?" The Twi'lek wondered.

"Yes," Anakin nodded firmly.

"But so many people died," the Squib whimpered.

"Yes, a lot of people did die," Anakin admitted. "Everything dies at some point, even _stars_ die. But when a star dies, a new one will be born to take its place. When a species goes extinct, a new one will evolve to fill in the gap. Things come to an end, only so that new things can have a beginning."

"So is the Order dead now too?" The Whiphid asked.

"No," Anakin shook his head, "we're still alive, so the Order still lives. Only when all the Jedi are dead, and all knowledge of us is gone, will the Order die. And that's a long way off."

"When will things get better, Master Skywalker?" A Human boy asked.

"Well, that's hard to say," Anakin scratched his head. "Think of it like this," he suggested after some furious thought. "The sun has set on us for now, so night has fallen. We just have to wait for the sun to rise again, so that morning comes. I can't say exactly when that will be. I can't say how many hours, days, weeks, months, even _years_ from now, but I _can_ say that it _will_ happen."

"You think so, Master Skywalker?" A girl asked.

"I _know_ so," Anakin declared. "So long as we are alive, we'll make it. So long as we live, there is always hope…"

**END**

* * *

**Note:** Yeah, the end. But don't despair! I'm working on a sequel which should start posting soon! Though...school will be starting up for me soon, and my laptop is in need of some serious work, so updates may not happen for a while, and possibly be sporadic when the do, so please be prepared... 

Anyway, thank you loyal readers! I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I have! And remember, there is more to come...

**EDIT:** The sequel, Exile, is up! Find it through my profile!


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